He heard voices, but they were far away. People in white surrounded him, their voices indistinct.

He felt a needle prick his arm, the sensation a faint echo of the pain that threatened to engulf him.

A gray curtain fogged his vision, and the pain became a distant throb, making room for fear and isolation.

He was alone.

Shouldn't there be someone with him? Where was Penny? He wanted her, needed her here.

Someone was moving his arm, and touching his chest. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the loneliness of the gray curtain.

* * *

Penny stood by the head of the hospital bed, watching Davey sleep. The doctor had said it might be another hour or two before he woke up. It didn't matter. She didn't want him to wake up alone.

Kent had gone home in the wee hours of the morning. Jack and Mitch, the other crew, has taken him to pick up his truck.

"I hate to leave you here, Penny," he'd said. "But Bonnie's pregnant, and, well, I don't like to leave her alone at night."

She'd nodded, sent him home, and called her mom. "I didn't want you to worry, Mom. I know how you are when I'm late getting home. But I can't just leave him here without anybody."