Mitchell stood and watched. It took a moment for him to realise that a question had been directed at him. "Shoulders, neck... I think..." he mumbled and swallowed. It couldn't happen like this. It could happen at all. She couldn't die. She couldn't leave him. They were meant to be forever.
His mouth hung slightly open as he watched the scene as if came from a movie. He could barely believe that the person on the cold, metal table was his girlfriend. His anchor. His rock. She would be okay. John would fix her.