It was so cold. So infinitely cold.

But you could feel something.

It was dark, almost as if there was nothing that could fill this world of darkness. And yet there was something. It was soft, like a pillow. And it was warm too.

With a shaky breath you managed to move your fingers. They twitched only briefly, but then the feeling disappeared again and your body was like a stature of stone.

You gasped. Your eyes flickered and for a moment they opened wide enough to see a hint of bright white light. Then they closed again, heavy and tired. You were tired. So infinitely tired.

But you couldn't sleep. Even though you wanted nothing so desperately like a long sleep.

But at that very moment, realization struck you.

You were alive. You were breathing. It was not a strong breath, short and heavy. But you were breathing. You had not died.

Now that that day was in the past, of course, you knew you had made it over the mountain. However, you could still remember that feeling, that desperation and fear that it would soon be over. You still feared that death would return and take you away.

A shaky breath left your lips.

Again you tried to open your eyes. This time you managed to open them a little wider. You stared at a white ceiling. Glaring lamps spread their white light, as if announcing the end of the tunnel that led to the sky.

At first the world was still blurry, barely visible and so watery. Your eyes felt irritated, warm tears ran down your face.

You blinked a few times, then the image became sharper and a room appeared before your eyes.

Everything was white. The walls were white, the ceiling was white, even the lamps and the curtains hanging in front of the windows. It looked like heaven. Except that heaven didn't look like a military hospital. At least, that's not how you imagined it.

With tired eyes you looked around until your eyes fell on a head full of short brown hair. Chris had spent the whole night at your bedside.

Later you learned that he had even waited outside the operating room for two days before they moved you to a room in the intensive care unit.

After that, he had taken care of everything, calling the nurses when he had to, changing the bags of fluid and checking how stable your condition was. He had even learned how to act in emergencies, it be able to react as quickly as possible.

During that time, he had hardly done anything for himself. No clothing changes, almost no hygiene or proper meals. He hadn't even shaved and you knew how much he hated his beard in the past.

Now he was sitting there, in a chair next to the bed, and had fallen asleep. Even now he looked so full of pain, so stressed.

When you tried to move, you noticed that his hand was holding you. He had his fingers tightly wrapped around your hand as if his life depended on it.

Your lips moved, you wanted to say something, but held back. He looked tired, the rings under his eyes were deep. He needed that sleep and you didn't want to take any of it away from him.

Not a single second.

Carefully you tried to free yourself from his grip, he moved briefly, but then became still again. You sat up in bed, a sharp pain chased through your body and then everything felt numb again.

Your eyes wandered along the tubes that had been put into your body. Blood was running through one, probably a transplant for the loss you had had. In another tube was a clear liquid, you suspected antibiotics, against inflammation and infection.

And then there was another bag. It smelled like disinfectant, probably something against the pain.

You sighed.

Your body was still weak, but you wanted to leave. This moment seemed to be a good one, it was dark outside and no one was there but Chris.

Maybe there were guards outside the door, but they wouldn't see you if you disappeared through the window.

"Shit...", you sighed. "Now or never."

It hurt a little when you removed the needle from your hand. This was a memory, a lucid dream that you had while bleeding out and yet everything was as clear as dawn.

The pain felt so real.

Immediately a pulling sensation and twitching traveled through your arm, you suddenly felt much weaker.

But you couldn't go back now. You knew it was this one chance and one only. Either you left now or you would be trapped forever in this nightmare of death, hospitals and violence.

The sacrifices you've had made were enough for ten lifetimes. The friends you had lost and the pain you had endured.

You had to leave, now, or nothing would ever change.

"I'm sorry.", you whispered, and leaned over to give Chris a kiss on the forehead. "But I will never see you again. This time is the last time. Please forgive me, but I can't do it anymore."

The words tasted so bitter sweet, the kiss was almost more painful as the actual physical pain that tortured every inch of your body.

With shaking legs, you managed to take a step out of the bed. A cold wind stroked over your body, before you realised that you were dressed in nothing but a simple hospital dress. The back was open, revealing everything, including the white, cotton underwear that they had put on you after the operation.

"Ah shit...", you mumbled and looked for something to put on.

But all you could find was a long coat, probably from Chris, that was hanging on the door.

You sighed, but knew you had no other choice. One quick grab and you put it on, before moving to the window and checking if it was possible to open it.

To your luck, it wasn't locked. It even opened wide enough to offer enough space for you to crawl through.

One last glance over your shoulder and you were gone.