This is in answer to The Road Not Taken Challenge
Tethered
He stepped into the lifeless room; still and quiet except for the soft hiss of the respirator, the regulated thug of the patient’s heart and the slow, doleful beat of the visitor’s in the bedside chair.
Turned away from the door, head resting on a propped hand and staring out the window, she did not hear his approach. He studied her inert form, the soft golden tendrils that escaped a crudely formed bun curling at her nape, the the stiffness of a spine that must be aching from exhaustion.
The vampire nearly turned to go, reluctant to intrude when her eyes focused on his reflection in the glass and she spun around to face him. “Mick!”
“Hey.”
Beth rose from her chair slowly, her body stiff from immobility and lack of sleep but the smile was soft and quick to her lips. “Hey.”
He stepped into the hospital room with a short, forced smile. “How’s Josh doing?”
“They had to remove his leg and his heart suffered severe trauma.” The words rang in the room and she darted an apologetic look at the prostrate man draped in white. Lowering her voice Beth walked toward the end of the bed, skimming her fingers along the edge. “But the doctors say he’s lucky. If not for you he he would have died.”
Mick’s eyes followed her hand, noting that even when she stopped it did not lose its connection from the mattress, as if she were tethered to it.
“I talked him into pursuing Tejada. He was trying to protect me. Now he needs me.” The words had the ring of rote.
Beth’s face raised to his, her tired eyes red-rimmed but intent. “Josh...,” she cleared her throat, “Josh is going to need extensive rehabilitation and has to learn to walk with a prosthesis. It will be slow. His heart is so weak.” Her voice faded and she looked down at her hand, now fisted in the bedding exactly where Josh’s missing foot should have been. When there was no response, Beth peeked up at the vampire but he was staring at her hand. The fist tightened. “He needs me.”
Mick realized Beth wasn’t tethered. She was holding on, afraid to let go. Afraid that he’d make her want to.
When his eyes finally met hers, Beth caught her breath at his expression. Shattered. Mick looked shattered.
“Then you should be there for him.”
There was relief; it was what she expected him to say. There was pain; it was not what she wanted him to say. Her eyes burned as she watched the corners of his mouth pull downward and his jaw harden.
She wanted to touch that face. Her arm raised. Stalled. And landed at his chest, just above his heart. Without thought, her head followed until it too rested there. “I can’t....we can’t...”
Was it only yesterday morning that he had entertained the thought of telling Beth how he felt? His admission to himself had opened a door - one that he could neither walk through nor close. He’d missed his chance. Now he had to walk away.
The dark head nodded, eyes raised, unfocused, towards the ceiling. “No. I know.”
He tried to keep his arms down but, although they felt as if they each weighed a ton, they refused to stay at his side. It was Mick’s last chance to touch her, hold her warm body against his and imbibe in all that was Beth. Leadened fingers threaded through her hair and splayed across her back, memorizing how she felt. It would have to last an eternity. Mick’s head fell forward, his nose rested below her ear. Closing his eyes he inhaled and let her essence permeate his body.
“I’ve got to go.”
Beth could only nod against his shoulder.
Mick backed away but was stopped by her fingers twisted in his shirt. She never made a sound. Just stood rooted to the floor, the bed. And him.
“Beth.” A whispered, tattered plea.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Beth pretended for just a moment that he was asking her to choose him. She pretended that she could walk away. That she was free. But that’s all it would be. Pretend. There was no choice.
Without looking up, she nodded and by slow degrees released him.
This is heartbreaking, and absolutely full of that special beauty that you can find only in the sadness. Like poetry. Oh God, I hope I'm making any sense, here, but... 
