This idea came about after watching 'Return to Me', but the unexpected loss of a spouse and the blind date scene are as far as the similarities go. Not sure I can manage daily updates right now, but I will do my best. I hope you enjoy and please review so I know what you think!

Chapter 1

Jamie walked through the door of the loft, dropping his duffle bag onto the floor as he slid out of his jacket. "Hey, I'm home! Syd?" he called out as he scanned the living room for his wife of just one year.

Based on the last few texts he received from her, he knew she was worried he wouldn't make it home in time to get ready for their big night out. He was running late becuase of a collar he and his partner made just before EOT. But as a rookie officer with a no-nonsense sergeant as his TO, he knew there was no way he was getting out of processing their perp and filing his report just so he could jump into a monkey suit and head out to a big fancy party. Renzulli would have laughed in his face at such a request from his boot.

Jamie hung his jacket and pulled his off-duty weapon from his belt, stowing it away in his usual drawer of a table in the entryway before walking further into the apartment.

Sydney came out of their bedroom as she slid the back of an earring onto its post. Her eyes widened in relief when they landed on her husband. "Finally!" she exclaimed with a bright smile. "I thought I was going to end up going to the Bar Gala all alone."

Jamie's eyes widened as well while they ran up and down Sydney's petite frame. "Wow! Look at you!" he gushed as they met in the middle of the loft.

Sydney blushed at his reaction, but struck a pose for him anyway. "You like what you see, officer?" she teased playfully as she extended the chiffon skirt of the red strapless gown she wore.

Jamie brought his head down and kissed her ruby red lips while wrapping his arms around her slim waist, being careful to avoid messing her up-do. "I like. I'd like it even more if we'd just stay home," he replied with a mischievous grin and a wiggle of his brows.

Sydney giggled. "Jamie, come on! We're gonna be late!" she admonished despite his efforts to distract her through a series of kisses on her neck that instantly sent shivers down her spine. "Just because you gave up law to become a cop doesn't mean you're off the hook from going to these things with me," she added.

Jamie sighed in disappointment and dropped his head onto her bare shoulder to place one last kiss there. "Alright, alright," he conceded. "Can't blame a guy for trying. You're rocking that dress, honey," he said with one last peck on her cheek.

Sydney smiled back but pushed him away. "Flattery will usually get you everywhere, but not tonight. Now hurry. Your tux is hanging on the closet door," she said, laughing at the look on his face.

"Fine," Jamie conceded and walked back toward the bedroom. "Give me ten and I'll be ready," he told her while pulling his T-shirt up and over his head.

"Great, because the car will be here in ten. So hurry," she ordered, but couldn't help the smile that grew on her face as she admired the view of her husband stripping out of his clothes.

Sydney turned away before she got tempted to give his suggestion to skip the gala any real consideration.

Several doctors and nurses crowded the hallway leading to the ambulance bay of the Bellevue Hospital Emergency Department in quiet anticipation of the trauma patient that would soon arrive. It was an all-hands-on-deck for multiple casualties from a motor vehicle accident with at least two critical and they were awaiting the first of those casualties.

The staff was suddenly rushing forward as medics stormed through the doors into the emergency room. "What do we got?" the dark haired doctor shouted.

The ER staff surrounded the stretcher as it moved swiftly down the corridor in search of a trauma room. They began assessing their patient before the medics even had a chance to provide their own initial report.

One medic was riding the rails of the stretcher carrying a motionless figure in a bright red dress as a second pushed it along, squeezing the ambu bag over the patient's bloodied and bandaged face. "Twenty-eight year old female, passenger in an MVA. Severe head trauma. Unresponsive since we arrived on scene. BP was 70/58 before she crashed in the bus," he advised.

"Get her into trauma one," the doctor ordered as he followed along side the stretcher with his team. "How many more we got coming here?" he asked with a glance back at the medic.

"We got two more on the way here, buses should be right behind us. One of them's the husband," the same medic responded. "His injuries appeared to be minor compared to hers," he reported as they disappeared into the confines of the trauma room.

Another team of doctors and nurses moved out to await their next patient. Five minutes later, the doors to the emergency room burst open again, but the medics were a little less rushed than the first pair.

One medic eyed a physician before nodding down at his patient. "Officer Jamison Reagan, twenty-eight year old male, second passenger in the MVA, laceration to the head and right hand, denies loss of consciousness, BP's 140/90 and not answering too many questions - his wife was brought in before him."

One of the first responding officers on the scene of the accident had recognized the PC's son and had helped the medics when their patient became determined to interrogate them on his wife's condition in lieu on providing basic information about himself.

Jamie was strapped to the stretcher, his head immobilized and neck secured in cervical collar and not the least bit concerned about his own health. "I'm fine. Where's Sydney? Is she here?" he asked as his eyes frantically roamed the faces surrounding him. Jamie grimaced as he was moved from the stretcher to a gurney, his stomach rolling from the sudden movement. His uninjured hand clenched into a fist out of frustration at having to be confined to his current position. He was panicked over Sydney's injuries and not knowing what was going on with her was killing him. The fact that she had been completely unresponsive to the sound of his voice back in the car had terrified him.

Most of the medical staff worked seamlessly around him, barely acknowledging their patient's inquiries.

"She's getting treated in the other room, alright?" one doctor finally responded before he shouted orders at the nurses.

Jamie's eyes searched the faces leaning over him for the doctor that had answered. "How is she? Is she okay?" he asked, his voice cracking at the end. His distress was steadily growing and the cacophony of noise around him while he was simultaneously being stripped and manipulated on the gurney was not helping.

"The doctors are still with her. I'll make sure they know you're here so that they can update you when they're done, but right now we need to got you looked at, alright?" the doctor replied, distracted by the care he was rendering to his own patient.

Jamie clenched his jaw and stared at the ceiling of the trauma room with watery eyes. He continued to ignore the medical professionals because he could feel it in his gut - everything was not all right.

Jamie sat in the small private waiting room just outside of the ICU at Bellevue. He was completely motionless, the clipboard and pen in his hands forgotten as he stared off into space. The doctors' words from earlier that morning still echoed in his head, but he couldn't quite grasp them.

There is no brain function.

...no prospect of recovery, even though her heart may still be beating with the help of artificial life support.

He didn't want to believe them. He'd been numb from head to toe since the specialists had broken the news to him and their families. Jamie hadn't been able to react. He sat there, flanked by his father and sister, while Sydney's parents had broken down at the grim prognosis for their daughter. Erin had tried to remain strong, but was unable to hold back the tears that eventually ran down her face. Frank had been a pillar of strength at his side as the doctors explained the choice he needed to make about his wife's medical care. But truth be told, Jamie had been oblivious to all of it.

For the first time in his adult life, Jamie Reagan was at a complete loss on what to do.

Sydney's parents had left the room to sit at their daughter's bedside, her father squeezing Jamie's shoulder gently as he passed him. When they'd left the room, Jamie had finally found his voice, asking his family for a moment to himself. Erin and Frank had been hesitant to leave him, exchanging looks of concern, but had conceded eventually. Frank understood needing some time to yourself after having something like this dropped in your lap so unexpectedly. They hadn't wandered too far from the waiting room, however, and remained ready to return to Jamie's side when, and if, he needed them.

But worry for his youngest brought Frank back to the room after some time. Jamie was always one to hold things in and Frank feared he might already be shutting down. He quietly reopened the lone door to the waiting room and found Jamie in the same position, stock still on the couch, lost in the thoughts and memories swirling around in his mind.

Frank took in the sight for a moment. Jamie was still dressed in the same gym clothes Danny had found packed away in the trunk of his car. He had given them to his brother when Jamie was getting ready to be discharged from the emergency room thirty-six hours ago - hours after his world had been turned completely upside down and his heart ripped from his chest.

Frank winced at the stranglehold Jamie had on the pen in his right hand, the same one that had been carefully stitched and wrapped in the ER. He'd come out of the accident with minor physical injuries that would heal with time. The doctors had been concerned about head trauma, but scans had come back negative. He was lucky, they had told him, but Jamie hadn't felt very lucky having to sit in the emergency room with his father and brother practically forcing him to remain there while the physicians finished treating him. He'd walked away with the lacerations on his hand and head while his wife needed a machine to keep her alive.

Frank stepped fully into the waiting room and closed the door behind him. He took a seat on the couch next to his youngest, his frown deepening when he still failed to get any kind of reaction. He knew from experience that there really wasn't anything anyone could say to make this situation better.

"I'm so sorry, son," Frank whispered. He breathed deeply, wringing his hands together nervously. "I know what you're going through right now. I won't ask how you're doing," he said softly. "But we're all here for you, Jamie. Whatever you need," he offered.

Frank waited him out, knowing he'd open up when he was ready.

Eventually, he did. "How am I supposed to do this?" Jamie said softly, barely loud enough for Frank to hear right next to him. His eyes remained fixated on some obscure point across the room.

Frank's heart clenched at the pain in his voice. He turned toward him, getting a close up view of the bruising along the right side of his forehead and down his temple that had darkened to a deep purple, peaking out around a square of white gauze.

Jamie continued to stare off. "First mom...then Joe. And now this?" he rasped. He didn't think he could deal with losing Sydney too. He shouldn't have to. It wasn't fair. Why not him? "How do I do this without her?" he wondered out loud.

Frank looked down at his hands and forced himself to still them. "You just do, son. It's what Sydney would want," he whispered.

After several long moments, Jamie closed his eyes and lowered his head. When he opened them again, tears pooled within them as he read the form on his lap. Jamie pressed the tip of the pen against the document and hesitated for several long moments before he scribbled his name along the bottom, his vision blurring as the pen moved across paper. Once he was done, he tossed the clipboard and pen onto the coffee table and stared down at his trembling hands, the ones that had just signed the consent forms to withdraw the life support keeping Sydney alive. Jamie felt the first tears fall and knew he could only be so strong. He didn't feel the strength to do anything, let alone pretend that anything would ever be okay. He was unable to hold back the sob that escaped from his mouth, leaning forward in his seat to hide his face in the palms of his hands.

Frank pressed his lips together as his own chin began to tremble. It was killing him to see his son going through the same pain he'd experienced when he lost his Mary, maybe more so because it was a loss that shouldn't be experienced by a twenty-eight year old newlywed.

Frank reached over and ran a hand soothingly up Jamie's back. When he reached his shoulder, he pulled Jamie to him, wrapping his arms around his boy as he shook with grief. The cries of shear anguish broke any resolve he had to be strong for Jamie and Frank wept right along with him.