The hallway felt longer than it should have. Stefan''s bare feet touched the cold floor as he made his way slowly, his body weak and unsteady, yet pulled forward by something stronger than exhaustion — the desperate need to see her.

    Ethan followed him closely, ready to catch him if his knees buckled again, but Stefan barely noticed. His mind was a storm, his chest a battlefield of pain and love and guilt.

    When they reached the ward, Rayna was sitting outside on a stic chair, her face pale with worry. She stood the second she saw Stefan, shock flickering across her eyes.

    "Stefan—you shouldn''t be out of bed," she started, but one look at his face stopped her. He was beyond reason.

    "I need to see her," he said, his voice a rasp of iron and breaking ss.

    Rayna''s throat tightened, but she didn''t argue. She only stepped aside, her eyes filling with tears as she ced a hand briefly on his arm, a silent promise that she understood.

    Stefan nodded before going ahead to push the door open.

    The smell hit him first — the faint sting of disinfectant, mixed with the sterile cold of hospital air. The room was dim, the blinds drawn, the only lighting from the monitors at her bedside. The soft, steady rhythm of machines filled the silence, each beep a cruel reminder that those machines were doing the work her body couldn''t yet manage.

    And then his eyesnded on her.

    Rubyy still on the bed, her skin pale against the crisp sheets. Her lips, though no longer blue, were colorless, her chest rising and falling only because of the oxygen mask fitted over her face. Her wrists were bandaged where the ropes had bitten into her skin, her hair fanned across the pillow like a brown silk.

    To Stefan, she looked both heartbreakingly fragile and unbearably beautiful.

    He stood frozen at the threshold, his breath catching in his throat. His vision blurred with tears before he could stop them, hot trails sliding down his smoke-burned face. His knees weakened, and he had to grab the edge of a chair to steady himself.

    He had raced through time to stop her from being hit by a car, fought through fire, through pain, through suffocating smoke to save her — but nothing prepared him for the sight before him. Seeing Ruby like this, lifeless yet alive, was a torment greater than any me.

    Slowly, as if afraid she might break, he moved to her side. He lowered himself into the chair beside her, his bandaged hand trembling as he reached for hers. The warmth of her skin against his palm undid himpletely.

    "Ruby…" His voice cracked, a whisper carried on shattered breath. "God, I''m so sorry."

    Tears slipped down, one after another, falling onto the back of her hand. He pressed her fingers against his lips, clinging to her as though she were his lifeline.

    "I failed you," he whispered, his shoulders shaking. "I couldn''t protect our baby. I wasn''t fast enough. I wasn''t strong enough." His words broke into sobs he could no longer contain. "You don''t know how much you wanted that baby. How your eyes lit up every time you touched your stomach. I saw it, Ruby. I saw how much you already loved it. And I couldn''t save her. I couldn''t…"

    He bowed his head, tears falling freely now, his chest heaving with grief. The loss hollowed him out, leaving a raw, aching emptiness that threatened to swallow him whole.

    For a long moment, he let himself break. The weight of guilt, the agony of helplessness, the unbearable pain of knowing he''d have to look into her eyes one day and tell her the truth — it all poured out of him.

    But then, slowly, he forced himself upright. His hand tightened around hers, his breathing ragged but steadier. He wiped his face roughly with his uninjured hand, dragging himself out of the spiral.

    "No," he said softly, his voice still trembling but firmer now. "I can''t fall apart. Not now. You need me. I have to be strong for you."

    He leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against her hand.

    "I don''t know how I''ll tell you about the baby. I don''t know how we''ll survive that pain. But Ruby…" His voice softened to a broken vow. "I swear to you, if you just wake up, I''ll spend every breath I have protecting you. You''re all I have left. Please don''t leave me, too. You have to wake up, baby. You have to."

    The monitors beeped steadily beside him, each sound like a faint heartbeat in the silence. He searched her face, desperately willing her eyes to flutter open, her lips to curve into the smile he loved, her voice to call his name. But she remained still, her chest rising and falling with the aid of the oxygen mask.

    He squeezed her hand tighter, his own shaking. "You''re stronger than me, Rub. Always have been. So fight. Please, fight your way back to me. I''ll be right here. I won''t leave you again, never. Just open your eyes already."

    His tears slowed, though his heart still bled. He sat there, silent now, just watching her breathe, letting the sound of the machines and the rhythm of her fragile breaths fill the emptiness inside him. His eyes stayed fixed on her face, memorizing every line, every freckle, as though the very act of watching her could keep her tethered to this world.

    Outside the room, Rayna leaned against the wall, listening to the muffled sound of his grief, her own tears slipping down her cheeks. Ethan stood nearby, jaw tight, his eyes dark with the pain of watching his friend crumble.

    But inside, by Ruby''s side, Stefan remained — broken, grieving, and yet clinging fiercely to hope.

    He didn''t know what tomorrow would bring. He didn''t know how long Ruby would lie in this fragile state or how they would survive the storm of loss that awaited them when she woke.

    But he knew this: he wasn''t leaving her. Not tonight. Not ever.

    And with that silent vow, Stefan bowed his head against her hand, whispering the same plea over and over until sleep finally dragged his exhausted body down.