Author's Note: I decided to investigate Christian's feelings as Ana is unconscious after Jack Hyde's assault in Fifty Shades Freed. I will use different quotes from him that she heard as she slipped in and out of consciousness in the hospital, and I will elaborate on them and show why I feel he said them/how he felt.

Enjoy, and please review!

God Bless,

Sarah.

"No, Dad. I want to be here when she wakes up."

Sleep coaxed my eyelids to fall often that first night. I had been fighting my nightmares off all evening and couldn't bring myself to fall into slumber. It was difficult sleeping without her beside me when I had become so accustomed to it. Languidly, she'd stretch next to me at night. Gingerly, she would grab my shoulders or waist and cuddle me. That's a word she had always used deep into the night whenever both of us happened to awake at the same time- cuddle. She loved that word. Oh, how she loved the flowers and hearts of a typical, romantic love. I smiled slightly, watching her short and even breaths. It was late Thursday night; fast approaching Friday morning. The clock next to her nightstand read somewhere between eleven fifty or eleven fifty-eight- I could not tell. The numbers were blurry; she was blurry. My whole world was in a haze.

I had meandered down the hallways quite a few times, catching up with my family, filling in her friends and father on her progress, and just taking quick breaths of air away from her. No, I didn't want to leave her- at all- but it was necessary for my sanity to leave at least for a few moments every few hours. Four solid hours now, though, I had been by her side. I grasped her hand in a tight hold, keeping it warm and safe in my own. I wish I could feed her. I wish I could speak with her. What mattered now, though, was that I be here with her when she awoke. What mattered was that I was the first face she saw. I needed her to know that she was safe and that I was here for her. I had messed up so many times already in the short months we had known one another and I owed it to her to keep a faithful vigil by her bed. The nurses had assured me that she should wakeup soon but how could they be so sure? Of course this bit of information gave me hope, but at what cost would it be that I rely on that hope? I couldn't believe that she'd be perfectly fine and then be let down. I was preparing myself for the worst but praying, for the first time ever, for the best.

I rubbed a gentle thumb over her arm and up to her shoulder, finding the hospital gown's tightly knotted straps and furrowing my brows.

"This won't do." I mumbled.

So as to keep her from any pain the uncomfortably tight knotting would cause, I made short work of the ties and let the sleeve fall from her shoulder to the half-point of her arm.

"Better, love?" I whispered quietly to the darkness in the room.

There was no response.

I hadn't been expecting one.

With a shaking hand I held her fingers against my own once more, raising them to my lips to plant a soft kiss there. I ran the pad of my thumb over her knuckles, sealing in the kiss and warming them.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going after him?"

I was glad she couldn't hear me. My voice was wrought with emotion and you could hear it falling apart almost as much as my heart was on the inside. My question was the pressing, million-dollar question, though, wasn't it? Why hadn't she told me? I was supposed to be able to protect her and be in control. But I had lost all control in this situation. I always lost control when it came to her. Anastasia Steele. Mrs. Grey: my completely stupid yet cunningly smart wife. How in the world was she both? I had never met someone who could act so ridiculous yet be so headstrong and one step ahead. She did amaze me often, though. She amazed me every day.

It had been a long evening of travelling and anxiety. When I had figured out what was really going on with Ana, my heart felt as though it was being slit open incredibly slow and there was nothing I could do to stop its bleeding. That's what I did in my life, though; that's what I practiced- control and taking care of myself. I had committed to taking care of her too, yet she hadn't even trusted me enough to tell me that Mia was in danger; that she was going after her. Why wouldn't she trust that I had a plan? Why wouldn't she have faith in her boss's boss's boss? She knew that I always had a game plan. She was sure that I always had a course of action. Yet somehow, in this situation, I had been clueless. I had been blind and unsure of what was unfolding before me.

I knew deep inside that the most vital part of being a Dominant was being in control and being able to care for whomever I took as my Submissive. Whilst Ana was not my Submissive, I still had a compulsive, undying need to protect her with every fiber of my being. I had failed, though. I had failed again with her. I had never been used to being this vulnerable. There was a deeper desire that I held for her than just what my flesh felt and needed. I held a deeper respect and regard for her than any of the Submissives I had taught and controlled in the past. I glanced down at the floor as my thoughts plagued me. My eyes hazed over with icy, fierce grey and my eyelashes cast a dark shadow on my cheek. Clenching my jaw tight, I continued to stare at the tile floor, counting the small specks and occupying my thoughts.

It didn't last for long, staring at the ground, because all I wanted to do was stare at her. My eyes found her once more and I watched the rise of her chest wearily, praying that it wouldn't stop. Paranoid that I would lose her- as I always felt- I scooted the chair closer to her bed and wished that I could curl my body around her, hold her in my arms, kiss her neck and take the pain away. I couldn't, though. No kisses or cuddling could comfort her now. My need to possess, control, and overtake every part of her beautiful body could not fix the problems that were before us now. I couldn't run and hide by resting my head against her chest. I couldn't bury myself in her and forget my worries any longer. I gave her hand a firmer squeeze as the clock slipped to twelve thirty and then allowed my eyes to slip closed. With one last uttering for the night, I willed her to wakeup.

"I love you, Ana," I mumbled, my words falling into the darkness and becoming lost on her ears. "I'll be waiting for you in the morning."

Then, curling up on the hospital chair as comfortably as I could, I fell into a fitful sleep; into another one of my deep nightmares. And as my mind overtook my heart that so desperately wanted to stay awake with her, I stumbled onto the floor. Suddenly, I was lying with my mother, brushing the hair from her eyes and keeping my own tears at bay. My stomach lurched uncomfortably. I was hungry. So hungry.

And the worst yet?

Ana was not by my side. She was fluctuating between consciousness and unconsciousness and I was trapped, fighting blindly to find her hand; her body curled around mine. I willed her to pull me from my nightmare, but she couldn't. Not this time.