A/N: Greetings, you'll have to forgive my lack of usual uploads as I've been swamped with balancing my ward placement, uni module, work, study and my dying social life!

Chapter five of (Picking up the shattered pieces) has hit the dreaded writers block which sucks and sadly will have to take a break while I chill from the ongoing fic! BUT...this hasn't stopped my doodles and planned some one-shots in the pipeline and possibly a songfic compilation but this totally depends on time.

Well enjoy this lil number and pardon any/all spelling/grammar mistakes but felt I just had to work on something other than uni stuff and quickly so I could do something productive for uni.

The Fall of Power

The monitors offered an eerie sense of peace and tranquility within the small side room, the only movement was the ventilator which kept her paralyzed shell alive. Barely clinging onto the fraying threads of life as her chest steadily rose and fell as the machine kept the unconscious witch alive.

Sitting alone in the darkened room, she watched from the corner almost hypnotized by the continuous rhythm of the complex machinery, a symphony of noises which she had grown accustomed too but also the steady rise and fall of her chest as the machine gently forced oxygen through the tube that had been inserted down her throat.

But both witches were not alone in the room. Tension filled the air, making it impossible for her to concentrate on anything, trying to clutch onto the last of her optimistic thoughts, the impending collision of bad news would soon arrive from the medical staff. It was only a matter of time. She wished that this was just the product of her aging mind that had conjured up this sick and twisted nightmare and the alarm clock would bring about the end of the insufferable agony that she had been forced to endure.

It was heartbreaking to witness the downfall of such a powerful and young witch, as she had been reduced to needing and relying on the help from others, it was a foreign concept but she was unaware of her surroundings. Her body, a shell of its former glory now lying defenseless on the pressure mattress which caressed skeletal, lifeless like body, almost too painful for the other witch to watch.

It was a terrible thought but if she were ever in that position then she would hope that someone would take care of her and end her pain instead of the prolonged suffering. The likelihood of any from of recover would require short of a miracle of biblical proportions, it was indeed bleak and the chances of a positive outcome were quickly diminishing like sand escaping through her hands, powerless to aid her in her time of need.

The door clicked shut as someone entered the room. The small smile, used to normally greet the medical and nursing staff faltered and instead her trademark scowl returned.

"What are you doing here?" questioned the voice

"It is visiting time...are you going to deny me...my right to visit?"

"I, very much doubt that Constance would want you here!" she hissed

"Oh! Come now Amelia..." she held her hands up, "Putting our differences aside...I'm here for Constance now."

Amelia sneered visibly annoyed and not allowing her self to be taken in by the lies that spewed from her. Nothing was ever about anyone else not unless it somehow had a direct benefit "You'll have to forgive my lack of sympathy...especially from you Hecketty."