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The apartment was quiet and dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, yellow hue over the room. Tate was curled up on the couch, her thoughts consumed by worry. Two months had passed since Y/N had left for deployment, and the weight of each day without her felt unbearable. Every knock on the door, every phone call, every sound made Tate's heart race, hoping it would be Y/N coming home.
That afternoon, as Tate was lost in thought, a firm knock echoed through the apartment. Tate's heart skipped a beat as she hurried to answer it, opening the door to find a man in uniform standing on her doorstep. The uniform was slightly disheveled, and the man's face was etched with a serious expression.
"Can I help you?" Tate asked, trying to mask her anxiety with a calm demeanor.
The soldier's eyes softened as he took in Tate's worried expression. "Are you Tate McRae?" he asked.
"Yes, I am," Tate replied, her voice trembling. "What's going on? Is Y/N okay?"
The soldier's face fell, and he took a deep breath before speaking. "I'm sorry to bring you bad news. Y/N was injured. She's in the hospital now. She was hit during a skirmish, but she's not dead. She's alive, but she needs treatment."
Tate's breath caught in her throat. Her world seemed to tilt on its axis as she tried to process the information. "Oh my God, no... No, please tell me she's going to be okay."
The soldier's eyes were compassionate as he nodded. "She's in serious condition, but she's stable. We need to get to the hospital quickly."
Without another word, Tate grabbed her coat and followed the soldier to his vehicle. The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, each minute stretching out as Tate's heart raced. The soldier offered reassurances, but his words barely registered as Tate's mind was consumed with worry for Y/N.
When they arrived at the hospital, Tate's legs felt like lead as she followed the soldier through the bustling corridors. Her hands were cold and clammy, her breathing shallow with anxiety. The soldier guided her to the waiting area, where a nurse approached them.
"Are you Tate McRae?" the nurse asked.
Tate nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, where is she? How is she?"
The nurse's face softened with sympathy. "She's in a recovery room right now. You can see her shortly, but I must warn you, she's still sedated and might not be fully aware of her surroundings."
Tate nodded numbly, her heart pounding as they led her to Y/N's room. The door opened, and Tate's eyes immediately found Y/N lying in the hospital bed. The sight of her, connected to various tubes and machines, was almost too much to bear. Y/N's face was pale, her usually vibrant demeanor subdued by the injuries she had sustained.
Tate's eyes welled up with tears as she approached the bedside, her heart breaking at the sight of Y/N's fragile state. She reached out and took Y/N's hand, her touch gentle as she tried to steady her shaking fingers.
"Y/N," Tate whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm here, baby"
As Y/N's eyes fluttered open, a weak smile appeared on her face. Her voice was hoarse, but she managed to whisper, "Tate..."
Tate's tears fell freely now, her heart aching with a mix of relief and sorrow. "I'm here. I'm right here. I missed you so much."
Y/N squeezed Tate's hand weakly. "I'm okay. Just... tired. But I'm glad you're here."
The room was filled with a profound silence, the hum of medical equipment the only sound. Tate sat beside Y/N, holding her hand, trying to offer as much comfort as she could. The weight of the last two months seemed to lift slightly with Y/N's presence, even in her weakened state.
After a few moments, the soldier, who had stayed quietly in the background, approached Tate. "I need to head back now," he said gently. "But I'll be around if you need any further assistance."
Tate nodded, her eyes still fixed on Y/N. "Thank you for bringing me here. I'll be forever grateful."
As the soldier prepared to leave, Tate stood and moved to the doorway, her heart aching with a desperate need to keep Y/N safe. She approached the soldier and, with tears streaming down her face, she pleaded, "Please, don't take her away again. I can't... I can't lose her."
The soldier looked at Tate with understanding, his own eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions. "I understand. She's in good hands now. We'll do everything we can to ensure she recovers."
Tate took a deep, shuddering breath as the soldier left, her heart still heavy. She returned to Y/N's side, sitting down and taking her hand again. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, her voice filled with determination. "I'm here, and I'm not leaving."
Y/N's eyes fluttered shut again, her breathing steadying as she relaxed into the hospital bed. Tate stayed by her side, holding her hand, her love and devotion evident in every touch.
Hours later, as the sun began to set outside, Tate watched over Y/N, her heart filled with hope and gratitude that they had been given another chance. Despite the pain and uncertainty, the sight of Y/N's face, even in such a fragile state, reminded Tate of the strength of their bond. It was a bond that, no matter how far apart or how many obstacles they faced, would always bring them back to each other.
As Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes opening to meet Tate's tear-streaked face, she whispered softly, "Hey, Tate."
And with those words, a new chapter began, one filled with hope and the promise of healing, as they faced the future together, stronger than ever.
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