A/N~ An alternate universe in which Lucy lived. Hope you'll excuse the medical mistakes. I own absolutely nothing!

Lucy was trapped. Caught in the world between conscious thought... and dreams. Her world was shrouded in darkness. Her mind held prisoner inside her body... buried deep within herself. And she was paralyzed. Unmoving... as her brain sped on. She willed herself to move. To drag herself out of the pressing darkness. To call out. But she remained motionless. Her vocal cords rendered useless. It was the most frightening experience she had ever had. Unable to even breathe for herself. Only her own thoughts for company. She was terrified.

For hours she stayed that way. Occasionally brought close to the surface of consciousness... before being rocketed back into endless night. she finally understood why her patients didn't want to be resuscitated. This wasn't living. Maybe it would be easier to just let go. To leave all this crap behind. But then she remembered Carter. Somewhere in the back of her mind, his voice reverberated. 'You fought the good fight Lucy. Tomorrow you'll fight another one." She wouldn't give up. This was one fight she had to win. She had to step up. She had to fight hard and long, and carry on. So that's what she did.

Elizabeth Corday glanced at the clock, her red curls falling back from her face. She sighed loudly, willing the young woman before her to somehow spring up and assure her that she'd be up and walking in no time. But she knew better. Her training as a surgeon... as a physician-had taught her better. If a patient suffered this kind of trauma... it was more than likely they wouldn't survive. They had cracked her chest. Had to pump blood and life back into her. She had died for a good 10 minutes on the table before they pulled her back. In all likeliness she would code. But they had fought for her. And they could only hope. and wait. and pray. elizabeth wasn't a particularly religious woman. But for Lucy... she would pray.

Then her eyelids fluttered open.

Lucy struggled with her eyelids, trying desperately to lift them, but failing time and time again. Finally she had managed to raise them to half mast-though even that had required exertion. They fluttered slightly against the harsh sunlight that met her eyes, trying to acquaint themselves with the sudden change. Before she could really get accustomed to the light, a blurry face swam into view, and locked the sunshine out of her line of sight. Finally Lucy blinked and found herself face to face with none other than Dr Elizabeth Corday. She could faintly hear her repeating her name over and over, and she opened her mouth to reply. yes? Yes, what is it. I'm here. hello? But she found she couldn't speak. Of course. the trach. Elizabeth seemed to realize her intentions because she spoke again, a little more clearly.

"Sorry about that. We had to trach you. But you should be back to your usual self soon, and we can remove it..." Corday trailed off.

Lucy sensed a hint of a lie, as she knew she wouldn't be back to normal for a good few weeks. And that was along the lines of her recovery. emotionally? psychologically? A few years.

she attempted a nod, though she probably only inclined her head a few millimeters. But Corday just nodded back.

"I could plug the trach again, if you want to say something. Or..." Lucy shook her head, but instead mimed writing.

Understanding, ELizabeth produced a pad of paper from her lab coat pocket, and plucked one of her many pens from the breast pocket. She handed them over, and Lucy scribbled a few words onto the pad, holding it out for Elizabeth to see.

It read, How's my condition? PE?

ELizabeth shook her head.

"the greenfield filter was successful, and we were able to reverse the pulmonary embolus. we did remove your spleen... but the rest of your organs remain intact. Other then dealing with pain, and taking your medications there should be no complications in your recovery... we'll take out the drain in a few days, and you should recover fully. but it was touch and go for a while. The stab wounds to your neck were difficult to over come, though shouldn't cause and long turn damage. He missed the artery, and you should be off the ventilator in about a week. We can discharge you in... oh about 10 days."

Lucy smiled at the older woman, then turned to her notepad to write again.

When can I go back to work?

elizabeth laughed.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves shall we? You were lucky to have survived Lucy."

Lucy nodded a bit more strongly this time. Then looked slightly alarmed as another thought occurred to her.

Is carter okay?

She remembered the attack with sudden clarity...

there was a blinding pain as Sobriki produced a knife from beneath his pillow, and thrust it into her stomach. She could hear the dull echo of a thump when she hit the floor-his face blurry above her... and then another stab. and another and another. It was torture. She cried out, but knew she wouldn't be heard over the raucous noise of the party outside the door. She struggled to stay awake, panting as she attempted to hold herself up. She watched vaguely as Sobriki walked around the room, clutching at his head, and speaking gibberish to himself... caught inside his head. With the sudden noise of footsteps, he hurried to the far corner. Lucy watched the door, a new kind of terror clawing at her heart as she wondered who might fall into Sobriki's grasp and become his next victim. She stared harder at the door, trying to focus on this so she wouldn't slip into unconsciousness. Her heart nearly stopped as Carter pushed open the door and made his way into the room, pulling up his sleeves before picking up Lucy's fallen valentine. A small smile graced his lips, and Lucy wanted to cry out... to warn him. But all her energy was going into staying awake. And then it happened. Almost in slow motion. She could only watch as Paul slipped out of his place in the shadows and grabbed John by the shoulder, grunting slightly as he slammed the knife up to the hilt into Carter's back. Carter's smile fell along with the valentine that fluttered to the ground, and his face registered pure shock.

The second stab wound brought on an unbearable agony, and the pain registered clearly on his face, his voice coming out in a strangled cry. Lucy felt for him, and cursed herself. This could've been prevented, it could've... her eyelids threatened to slip shut. No! She must stay awake! She watched with glassy eyes as he felt for blood. His eyes seemed to unfocus when he saw the stain of red on his fingers. He soon lost his footing and stumbled over. Crashing into a nearby tray, and desperately trying to regain his balance. calling out for help. Amazing how in a few simple seconds, John went from smiling at a forgotten joke, to grimacing at the sudden wealth of unspeakable pain. and complete loss of control. The tray collapsed under his weight, and he went with it. She heard a second sickening thud as her colleague went down-clutching at the steadily increasing bloom of blood on his back. he tried and failed to get up, and Lucy worried for his health. It was hard to believe what she had just witnessed. The stabbing of her mentor... and her friend. He looked up suddenly and met her gaze, seemingly becoming even more pained at the sight of her. She must look as bad as she felt... the pair were bloody... tired... and dying. She realized with a start. Were they going to watch each other die? She heard him say her name as if from far away, and saw him lose his own battle and slip into the peaceful world of unconsciousness. She longed to join him. Though she knew they probably wouldn't wake up... at least she would be free of the pain. and so she gave up, and fell into a dreamy world...

She remembered all of it. And suddenly felt a terror that the only person in the world who could relate to her right now, had been killed by the same man that stabbed her. She waited for her reply with bated breath. John can't have died...

"Carter's yet to wake up... but he's healing in recovery. They had to do a colostomy, but they were able to repair the damage to his kidney."

WIll be he paralyzed? Elizabeth read the hastily written note and gave her a comforting smile.

"Hopefully not. They've got to wait for him to wake up to ensure that sensation will remain intact, but he will likely be able to walk again with the help of intensive physical therapy. He'll be out of her in a few weeks. You were both... very lucky." Elizabeth paused as she gazed at the young woman, unsure of what to say next, and knowing that telling her they were lucky wasn't going to be well received. They had gone through a huge trauma.

Lucy pondered this, then nodded. Though it was difficult to see having a butcher knife shoved into your neck and abdomen as lucky, she agreed silently, that she could just as easily have died.

Can I see him?

Elizabeth looked at her curiously. considering.

"He's not awake yet... and you're obviously unstable... I'm going to see If I can get him wheeled in here tomorrow though. How does that sound?"

Lucy nodded at the redhead, eager to be with him, and see for herself that he was indeed alive.

In another room, John felt the same way. He had just woken up, and felt groggy after the hours under the influence of a sedative. The first face he saw was that of his former teacher and surprise friend, Peter Benton. He squinted slightly, and saw Peter scribbling on a chart. His chart, he realized. Benton's eyes met his for a split second before returning to his work, than shot back up again as he saw that his student... er former student, was awake and watching him.

"Hey man. Back to the land of the living I see." he smiled softly.

John nodded slightly, his expression still grim, before he cleared his throat, and spoke for the first time.

"So... How'd it go?" He was surprised at how weak his own voice sounded.

Benton didn't miss a beat.

"good, good. We managed to salvage your kidney, and your spinal cords looking pretty damn good... no major internal injuries have appeared as of yet. We had to put in a colostomy though."

Carter looked very slightly more relaxed.

"thank god. You checked everything?"

"yeah Carter. it wasn't our first surgery. You were with only the best."

Carter couldn't help let the corners of his mouth turn up in a small smile at the ever present cockiness. Benton studied the chart again, then looked up. The smile didn't last long however.

"okay. we gotta do the usual exercises Carter... Make sure sensation's is okay in both legs."

"Is there a chance that there isn't?" carter looked at him meaningfully.

"I'm sure it's fine Carter, Just... Let me know when the vibration stops."

He held the mallet to Carter's leg, and he twitched slightly at the coolness of the metal. He was still groggy and light headed from constant drugs over the past few hours. he felt... well he felt like he's been stabbed in the back.

He ran over the possible complications of the surgery in his mind, and prayed that nothing went south.

"what about the pancreas?" he questioned.

he glanced up at him. "totally intact." Benton paused for a second, then continued,

"He just got the descending colon."

Carter looked away and considered.

"How long will I have the colostomy for?"

"About a month, then we'll do a take-down."

Carter was silent for a second before he simply stated 'now'

Benton lifted the mallet to his own wrist and was relieved that the vibrations had indeed ceased. "good." He nodded to himself.

Then turned to Carter- "sensations intact."

Carter looked almost too tired to care though he inclined his head in acknowledgment of the news.

Benton seemed reluctant to speak any further, but hesitantly carried on-

"You were lucky Carter."

"I know" He said simply, nodding. "thank you."

benton looked at him for a long moment before replying.

"you're welcome. Alright, I gotta test your motor strength, lift your leg"

Carter grimaced, and swallowed hard at the thought of straining his already throbbing back.

He suddenly thought of Lucy, and used her to stall the surgeon in front of him- though he did genuinely want to know about her. The thought of her dying hadn't even crossed his mind. Or maybe it was just too painful to face.

"How's Lucy doing?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

"Come on man, lift, lift." So much for that plan.

He exhaled shakily as he lifted his leg, it caused him a lot of pain-that much was evident. His face contorted with the sudden burning pain that shot through his body.

and he couldn't help but show weakness.

"It hurts."

"I know. Alright now, don't let me push it down okay?" he nodded though his expression remained agonized.

Benton tried not to show any emotion at his friends obvious discomfort, and instead focused his attention on Carters leg, pressing down on it with both hands.

Carter grimaced again, trying desperately to fight against the pain that threatened him...

"Hold it... hold it..."

He held his own for a few brief moments before his leg fell back down to it's place on the bed. He made a defeated noise at the failure and shook his head, frustrated. But Benton looked satisfied and nodded once again.

"hmm... good, good."

Carter grappled with the pain, wincing constantly, but gave up on trying to be brave in front of his colleague, eager to git rid of it- and the constant reminder of his attack. he groaned quietly.

"My back is killing me." he exhaled and tried again to manage it, reducing his movement to almost nothing.

"yeah, I know... hematoma around the lumbar plexus, I'll give you some morphine. I want you up and walking in 12 hours, okay?" he didn't answer.

but stayed silent for several moments.

"Lucy's dead isn't she?"

Benton paused for a second, he could plainly see the fear on his friends face...

"No. Carter... she'll be fine. She's down the hall... Corday says she wants to see you."

Carter's eyes brightened considerably.

"Can I?"

Benton chuckled slightly.

"Tomorrow, maybe. You should be able to walk to her room by then."

carter groaned at the thought of actually exiting his bed. Benton laughed and returned the chart to it's spot at the foot of the bed, and exited the room.

"Take it easy man."

And he left Carter alone with his thoughts. Of death.. of pain, and of Lucy. The clearest memory he had of his attack, was the two of them, staring across at each other from pools of their own blood, awaiting help... but paralyzed. Fighting to stay alive. That was his last memory of her. He wanted a new one. he wanted to look into her eyes, and know with complete certainty that she was going to recover fully.

Soon after, the two were visited by Abby, Chen, Malucci and Kovac... followed by a large group of nurses, including Carol, Chuney, Haleh, Connie, and lily... followed by Mark and Elizabeth... followed by Weaver... followed by the remainder of the hospital. When the only people they really wanted to see were each other.

Lucy opened her eyes to an empty hospital room. It was her fifth day in the same room, and the seclusion was getting a bit tedious. Her visits were getting less and less frequent, and when people did come, she was merely annoyed by their speaking of carter and how he was doing and how he looked, when she should really be able to see him herself. She had waited day after day, and every day-Elizabeth said both of them were too unstable... should wait until she could breathe normally... patients who were-mere days ago-critical, don't often socialize... yada yada yada. She wanted to talk to him. Or rather, write to him, if she couldn't get off the damn vent. She was brought out of her thoughts by the appearance of a young asian nurse, dawning dark pink scrubs.

"hello!" She said with a thick layer of false cheer. "I'm Melody... Dr Corday said I would be taking out your trach today, is that right?" Lucy nodded frantically, though this was her first time hearing of it. She wanted to talk... and breathe normally.

"Okay, we'll take you off the vent now then." She walked over to her bedside, reaching over and unhooking the ventilator, a new professionalism about her. Lucy's much anticipated first breath was easy, and with that knowledge handy, the nurse sighed in relief and smiled at her. "I'll bet you're talkative, aren't you?" Lucy nodded vigorously again.

"Yeah, they always are..." She set the tubing aside, then walked over to the door.

"Cutler! Yes you, you idiot. Come here."

She shook her head in disbelief and made her way back to Lucy.

"Dr Cutler can take out the tube, and suture the wound now. Any questions?"

Lucy shook her head in a definitive no, just as a young black haired man with crooked glasses flew into the room, lab coat flaring out behind him.

"Hello miss..." He glanced at the chart,

"Knight. I'll be removing your breathing tube now..." He sat on a nearby stool and wheeled close to her, snapping on latex gloves before leaning forwards, a look of concentration on his face.

"Sit very still..." He injected a numbing agent into her neck, and she flinched at the sudden sting. He then slid the tube smoothly out of her neck, and she coughed quietly, a burning in her throat. When he was satisfied that she could breath on her own, he turned to the suture kit laid out to his left and picked up various instruments, as the nurse prepped and draped her neck. It felt weird to be on this side of the suturing.

"It's going to be a little prick..." She was a little annoyed of his condescending tone, and looked forward to telling him she was a med student.

She flinched slightly at the sting of the needle, then relaxed as the doctor stitched her up, listening in on the banter between doctor and nurse before she left the room. The doctor had the good sense not to talk to a woman who's neck he was suturing, but silently finished up. Lucy hoped he was half decent, and that there wouldn't be scarring. When he finally finished, he removed the drape and smiled crookedly at her. "All done miss Knight."

She smiled back and sat up, relieved at the lack of restraining tubing.

She cleared her throat, wincing at the pain and said, "Doctor." Her voice was rough and barely audible from lack of use.

"Hm?"

"Doctor Knight." She said a bit louder. His eyes widened for a second as he realized that he must've come across as an ass. Sure she wasn't actually a doctor yet, but the look on his face was priceless.

She just continued to smile, and picked up a text book on the arteries in the neck from her bedside table, as the open mouthed doctor left the room. She put the book down and burst into laughter when he was out of earshot. Damn it was good to laugh again.

She stopped laughing at the clearing of a throat. She froze when she considered that the doctor might've returned for something, but was instantly relieved when she saw the face of a highly amused Carter at her doorway.

Upon seeing him, she felt instantly freed from a weight she hadn't even realized was there. She grinned at him, and he smiled back.

"hey." He said quietly from his spot by the door.

"Hey yourself. And come in!" She gestured for him to come further into her room and he shook his head and smiled at her eagerness. He had a bit of trouble maneuvering the wheelchair, and awkwardly wheeled himself towards her. Her smile dropped a bit at this. He couldn't even walk. Crap. What if he could never walk? Despite the fact that Benton and Corday had assured her to the contrary, seeing him in that wheel chair had made it real.

"does it hurt?" She asked him when he finally reached her bedside.

he looked at her like she was crazy.

"um... yeah it does." No point in lying. She knew.

She nodded sympathetically.

"I can't believe this."

"I know. We were just... fine 6 days ago. Looking after a guy with a headache..." he chuckled humourlessly. "Now we're both in the hospital suffering from near fatal stab wounds."

She smiled kindly at him. But it didn't reach her eyes.

"I know. karma's a bitch."

Carter laughed for real this time. "what?"

"well, we weren't spending all that much time with him were we."

"right... Lucy, I just want you to know that I'm really, really sorry. I pushed too hard, and I wasn't there and I almost got you killed. I'm so-"

"yeah. You did do all those things. But he stabbed us because he has a disease. Not because of you. Sure you were being an ass. But that doesn't mean you're at fault. No one's at fault." Carter smiled weakly at his student.

"You are far too nice to me" she raised one eyebrow.

"calling you an ass is nice?"

"So calling you a kinda okay guy is practically foreplay." John snorted at that last comment, then started to laugh. She joined in, and they reveled in the perfect happiness of the moment. After days of suffering, it was a relief.

"I'm really glad you're okay." Carter stated honestly, his deep brown eyes meeting her blue ones. She held his gaze, and they sat there far a long few moments before she broke the moment.

"So I guess we could think of this as a bonding exercise."

"Yeah I guess we could. But could our next exercise entail a little less butcher knife and a little more trust falls and crap?"

She fake sighed in frustration. "I suppose so..." He smiled at her. Maybe recovery would be a little less difficult with her by his side.

"When are they letting you out of here?" he asked.

"uh... about 5 days more, which sucks, but you know at least it's not 20."

"lucky you, I got at least a couple more weeks. Physical therapy and all." He looked disgusted, and she laughed at the expression.

"At least you're not dead." He punched her playfully on the arm, then froze. The movement had cause a sudden fire to ignite in his back and travel up his spine. He let out a surprised yelp of pain and leaned back, shifting positions and trying desperately to escape from the pain. His winced constantly with each shift, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Lucy sat helplessly on the sidelines, knowing the intense pain, but not able to help him... her hands stretched out to him as if to save him. He finally sat straight up, elongating his back to keep himself from succumbing to the same pain again.

"Well that was fun..." He tried to bring back some of the light heartedness they'd shared before, but it had passed. The room was left with tension, and 2 broken friends, with brutal memories of their attack. It was tortuous and awful to be haunted by those images... and the exquisite relief and comfort they had found in each other had vanished as soon as they were reminded of the attack. How were they supposed to cope with something like this?