"There's been an accident." 

The words hung thick in the air as my mind tried to process them. Gradually, a lead weight pressed more and more heavily on my chest. "No," I snapped, shaking my head violently. "No!" 

Ian tugged me into his warm embrace and Bridget wrapped her arms around both of us. "Please just tell me he's alive," I choked.

"He's alive," Bridget said. "Apparently my number was in his phone. When they couldn't contact you, they called me. We came to take you to the hospital." She dragged me away from the door and into my room, where she dug into my closet and pulled out some jeans and a light sweater. "Get dressed," she urged me. 

"Right," I said, floating towards the clothing. I didn't remember getting dressed, and I barely recall grabbing my purse on the way out the door. I followed them absent-mindedly to Ian's car, parked illegally in front of our building, that part, I noticed, for some reason. Everything was a blur on the way there. Nothing mattered anymore – not the relapses, not the new ER project, not the status of our relationship - nothing mattered except finding out if he was going to be okay. That was the curse of having a career in medicine, I suppose, knowing that "alive" didn't necessarily mean he would walk out of the hospital with us after they examined him. I didn't even know if he was conscious or if I'd be able to see him right away.

When we passed the turn for CMI, I asked, "Where did they take him?" 

"Mercy," Ian replied. Shit, that was further away. I focused on deep breathing, in through my nose, out through my mouth, over and over again, to ward off the panic that was waiting to pounce on me at any second.

Finally, Ian pulled up in front of Mercy Hospital and I jumped out of the car while he and Bridget went to find a parking spot. I raced to the emergency department. "Harry Styles," I said impatiently. "There was an accident and-"

The nurse at the intake desk placed her warm hand over mine and it felt surprisingly comforting. "Calm down," she said, giving me a warm smile. How odd to be on this end of the emergency department. "Let me just check here." After a few computer clicks, she revealed, "Dr. Styles has been moved to ICU 3." She pointed in the direction of the elevators that would take me to the ICU. Bridget and Ian caught up with me in the lobby. "He's in the ICU," I said, practically sprinting to the elevators. I jammed my finger into the call button and held it tight. 

"Ellie," Ian said in a soothing voice. "Relax, okay? Just take it easy." 

He was trying to help, but he had no clue what I was feeling inside, that I was on the verge of hysteria. When we arrived at the ICU, Bridget and Ian took a seat in the lounge while I pressed the buzzer. "Ellie Jansen," I announced. "I'm here to see Harry Styles." 

"Come in, Ms. Jansen," the nurse said as if she was expecting me. She met me at the door, saying, "He asked about you already."

"He's awake? And talking?" I asked, relief rushing into my body.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Are you family?" 

"He's my...I love him...boyfriend, hopefully my fiancé soon, but-"

She interrupted my babbling by placing a hand on my arm. "It's fine since we know he wants you here. Just to let you know his condition - He has a skull fracture, a concussion, a broken collarbone, and he also has some significant bruising on his face and torso, just to prepare you. He also had to get some stitches along the side of his face." I think she said some other things but my mind was already inside the room with Harry.

I glanced at her and said, "I'm a nurse in the ER at Chicago Medical Institute. I've seen just about everything. I...I work with Dr. Styles over there." 

We arrived at the door and she said, "Still, it might be hard to see someone you love like this. He might be sleeping, but you're welcome to sit with him for as long as you'd like."

"His family?" I asked.

"Flying back from Arizona. Should be on an early morning flight," she said. 

Oh, right, Harry's parents had flown to Arizona to meet Aiden's family before the wedding. Gemma and Aiden had set an August date, so it was only a few months away now.

"Do you know how it happened?" I asked, hoping the answer wasn't what I thought it was.

"His blood alcohol level was at .06%, he lost control of the vehicle and he flipped it. No one else was involved," she told me. "He's lucky to be alive." 

I choked on the information and then took a deep breath before going in. I entered quietly, not wanting to disturb him, but at the same time wanting to see his eyes wide open and that irresistible grin on his face. However, I was greeted with an entirely different sight. He was indeed sleeping, if that was even him under all the bandages and tubes. As I got closer, I noticed a long line of stitches along the left side of his face, beginning just above his eyebrow and extending to the hinge of his jaw. His left eye was swollen completely shut and grotesquely colored, a combination of purple, yellow and almost black. His left arm was immobilized, which told me that was the side of the collarbone fracture. It appeared that his left side took the brunt of the trauma, the driver's side of the vehicle.

The nurse was right. It was a completely different thing to see a loved one like this versus a random patient. I choked back the first sob, trying to keep myself from a full-on crying jag. Just the sound of that one gasp awakened Harry. He opened his one good eye and gave me mournful smile. "Hey," he said in a hoarse voice.

"Hey," was all I could say and then the damn broke. I tried, without success, to stop my loud sobs and sniffles. He held out his right hand to me, which I took and stood there awkwardly as the tears kept coming. I reached over to his bedside table and grabbed some tissues, first to wipe away my crying mess, and then to dab at Harry's one open eye, which was leaking now too.

"You bastard," I said, half crying, half laughing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. I could tell it was an effort for him to say anything.

"You should be." The words came sailing out as I exhaled a sigh. "If anything had happened to you, I-" I couldn't finish. I was a wreck. 

He closed his eyes and forced a heavy swallow. His chest was heaving, and I just needed to shut up and hold him, if that was even possible. I sat on the edge of his bed, using extreme caution not to hurt anything or bump him in any way. Well, at least I knew how to plug everything back in if something came undone. Then I leaned against his chest and held him carefully but tightly. That was when his shuddering sobs broke free. I leaned up to kiss his chin and then his cheek, his tears trickling onto my lips. 

"I'm so sorry," he gasped. "So sorry."

"Shh," I cooed, not attempting to say anything yet, giving him time to express his pent up emotions. Finally I sat up, grabbed some more tissue and carefully wiped the tears from his bruised face. 

"I'm sorry, baby," he said again. 

"I know you are," I whispered, tucking back a strand of hair that had come loose and fallen over his face. "Now no more apologizing." 

"I'm going to lose everything," he said, and I could tell he wasn't quite finished crying yet.

"Harry," I said gently. "You're alive. Nothing else matters."

"I'm going to lose my driver's license, I might lose my medical license. And now I've lost you," he whispered, on the verge of sobbing again.

"You know, for a genius who's also a successful, intelligent doctor, you're still kind of stupid."

"What?" He stuttered in surprise, sniffling.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not going anywhere? You're so fucking stubborn," I giggled a little. "No matter what I said the other day, you're stuck with me. For better or for worse."

"Yeah?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah, duh," I said playfully.

"You never lost me, nor will you ever lose me. That's how love works. And I'm so hopelessly in love with you that you're never going to get rid of me, even if you try." I took another moment to wipe my eyes and to wipe his tears as well. "I still need some assurance that you're going to try harder, but-" I began to choke up but willed myself to keep going. "-but I can't live without you. If I had lost you tonight, I...I...just...." I couldn't finish but he knew exactly what I wanted to say.

"I don't deserve you," he said mournfully. His voice cracked, so I brought his cup of ice water to his mouth, bending the straw so he could take a few sips.

"Who said anything about deserving it, Styles? I love you. Period. There's no changing that."

"I love you," he said softly. "I was wrong about losing everything." I cocked my head and looked at him curiously. "You are my everything, Ellie." His hand pulled away from mine and he dragged his fingers lightly into my hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"The feeling is mutual," I said and leaned in to kiss him carefully. Luckily, he didn't seem to have any pain in his lips, so we lingered for a while. 

Finally, he said, in his tired, raspy voice, "Do me a favor."

"What's that?" 

"Do you see my things anywhere?" 

I glanced around, eying the standard issue plastic bag with handles. I stood up to get it. "This?" I asked. He nodded. I looked inside and said, "It's just your wallet. I'm sure they cut your clothes away." 

"It's fine," he said. "I just need my wallet."

I looked at him like he was a little crazy. "Why do you need your wallet right now?" I asked. "I can get your insurance card out later and help you with all the paper work. They're not going to ask you to do that tonight. You really need to rest."

"Please, Ell," he said, attempting a smile.

"Sure." 

I handed him the wallet, but upon realizing it was difficult to open it with one hand, he handed it back and said, "Open the small zipper pocket." I knew exactly which one he was talking about. I pulled out a small velvet drawstring bag. 

"Is this what you're looking for?" I asked, trying to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest when I noticed a jeweler's name on the tiny pouch.

"Yeah," he said. "I've been carrying this around for a while. I thought I might have to return it, you know, after our last conversation, or at least put it into a safe deposit box or something. But I guess I'll stop being stupid and believe that you want to be with me. I know you said you needed some time-"

"I don't," I interrupted him. "I mean, I do, but not in the way I said before. I mean, I still need...I don't know. I'll shut up now."

He smiled and for the first time since I'd arrived, I saw joy in his eyes; well, the one eye that I could see. He clumsily fished a ring out of the velvet pouch. "I had planned on giving you as much time as you needed, and I'd wanted to do this in a much nicer way, but maybe that doesn't matter anymore. What matters now is that I've found the love of my life and I intend to spend my life showing you how grateful I am that I found you, and trying to be the best man I can be for you. Never in my life have I been so sure of what I wanted, and all that I want is for you, Elloise Jansen, to be my wife."

____

We're at #11 in fanfiction!!! OMG! 

You're all so fantastic, but I wonder if I could ask you for one small favor - will you share the story with friends and followers and ask them to check it out in the next day or so? I would be thrilled to get into the top ten before the story is finished. ILYSM! <3

Also, just a quick note about Harry's level of impairment. I checked on the Illinois laws for drunk driving and found this blurb, which doesn't explain all the possible penalties, but at least outlines the difference between impaired driving and drunk driving. Still, I think we can all agree that Harry shouldn't have been driving at all.

If your blood-alcohol concentration (BAC) is 0.08% or higher, you are legally drunk and it is illegal for you to drive. However, if you are driving with a BAC between 0.05% and 0.08%, you may still be cited for a DUI if your behavior suggests you are impaired. This is at the discretion of the officer citing you. Even with a BAC below the legal limit, you are still far more likely to be involved in a fatal accident than if you didn't consume any alcohol. (This information was copied and pasted from Illinois' DMV website.)