She sat on the couch in silence, knees to her chest, barely breathing. In fact, if she could consciously not breath, she would. She couldn't even grasp what had just happened… there was so much blood… so much blood… she didn't even get to see her.

He walked into the living room, holding two cups of hot chocolate in his hands. He didn't know what he felt. All of his emotion had been drained over the past five days. He took a seat on the couch and held one out to her, but she didn't budge. She continued to stare at the television with empty, dark eyes.

"Sam," he whispered, emotion slowly flooding back to him, "it wasn't your fault. I hope you know that." Sam shook her head slowly, words rising up to her throat.

"But it was." She felt distant from herself. She wondered how she could ever learn to live with a body that betrayed her. He took a breath.

"These things are so common, Sam… but… the most important thing is that you're still here. We could… try again…" at that, her head snapped towards him, and she was finally staring at her husband with tear-filled, angered eyes.

"What, and kill another one? Did you ever think that this is some cruel, twisted sign from God? That I'm not meant to do this? Didn't we always know that I couldn't do this?"

"No." his eyes were hard, his voice the strongest it had been all week. "I never thought that."

She continued to stare at him with tear-filled eyes until they started pouring out. She looked away, ashamed, but he pulled her close to him and continued to kiss her repeatedly.

"I almost lost you, Sam! Goddammit!" he cried as she wailed into his shoulder, shaking uncontrollably.

Life had changed as they knew it.

Sam had changed as he knew her.