em'Whatever you want'/em This was the text that got him in a wreck. It got him into the hospital. She could be in one of those commercials that got you to stop texting while driving - the kind that made some people cry to see the affects it had on others. She didn't know he was driving, if she did she would have forced him to not text her. Even after all the times she had told him not to... He still did. They had been talking about her playing with his hair while he could play with anything he wanted, and he chose her boobs. That was the last she heard from him.

Meredith could remember the phone call afterwards. She picked up the phone thinking it was Brian - which was confusing because they usually just texted each other unless they were face to face. When she answered, her tone was light and playful. That was before the unrecognizable voice spoke up that she only heard in small increments,em"Mr Holden was in a vehicular crash...coma...didn't stop fast enough...sandwiched between the two...severe...damage...come down as soon as possible."/em She remembered shaking her head to the phone, a stubborn look contradicting the tears already forming. em"It's not him,"/em she had said. Over and over again, even after the man had hung up. emIt's not him. It's not him. It's not him./em

The nurse at the ICU desk had given her a look full of pity as she walked in and asked where his room was. She even told the nurse, em"It's not him."/em At the door, she stopped, putting her back against the wall. She wasn't ready yet. What if it was him? Their time apart was already too much for her to handle, but if he was in a coma... He might never come out of that, and if he did it could be days, weeks or years. It couldn't be him because if it was... How was she supposed to live with him so close but without getting to hear him talk to her and hold her when she got the nightmares?

If it emwas/em Brian, she figured she should probably be in there beside him. Slowly, Meredith twisted the door knob and peeked in. The person in the was male. He had Brian's face structure. He was lean and not particularly tall, but that didn't mean it was him. Step by step, the lump in her throat grew with her dread.

Then, she was there. She reached her hand out and gently stroked his cheek bone. emIt's him.../em she thought, a tear trailing down her cheek. "Brian..." With her knees giving out, Meredith grabbed at his hand, kissing his knuckles. Her forehead rested on his wrist as she shook her head again. "No... I'm so sorry, Brian. This is my fault... It's all my fault."

She felt like puking. The door creaked open, and Meredith looked back, thinking it must be the doctor. But the man who came in, was not. He was dressed in a white button down with the tie loosely slung around his neck. The face was all too familiar, one that popped up in her mind numerous numbers of times. The face of her ex-boss.

Meredith backed up in fear, her back hitting the hospital bed. She grabbed Brian's hands as he sauntered in closer and spoke, "He's no use now. He's in a coma and you might as well get someone else to pleasure you. Someone like me." He pulled off his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt before reaching out, right for her breasts. Tears streamed down her face because she knew that Brian couldn't protect her now. She would have to protect him.

His hand an inch away, Meredith awoke with a jolt, hearing the soft beeping of the monitor. Brian's parents and sister had left to get something to eat earlier and had left her to look after him. She didn't sleep much because when she did, the events of that day relayed in her dreams to the exact detail. Every detail but her old boss coming back, that is. In reality, the doctor emwas/em the one who had come in. He explained to her in the big doctor words what was happening and the details of a coma. He told her of the possibility he would wake up and also that she might have to make some hard decisions later on for him. It was the bad news that made her mind twist him into something worse. Her own distressed mind had brought back the dreams, and she was beginning to think she would never be able to run from them.

"Brian," she whispered standing up with bones aching from being curled up for so long. She dragged the chair closer to his side and sat in it once more and taking his hand. As it turned out, the tears in her dream were not only just in her dream. "I'm so sorry... They keep telling me it's not my fault, but I know it is. And I know what you would say. You'd tell me it's not my fault too. But... it is. And I'm sorry. I told you I wouldn't hurt you again, but now look what I did." She rested her head on the bed. "I'm a mess."

Meredith looked up with her chin resting on her fist. "So, you need to wake up. Wake up for me. I emneed/em you, Brian. I need you to protect me because I don't know how. And I need you to put me back together and hold me close to make sure I never fall apart again. And when you do wake up, we can do that thing you wanted to do. We can get our own room together and make a pillow fort and stay inside for however long you want. I'll make you waffles in the morning and wear your shirts and we can have Friends marathons. But first you have to wake up..."

em"And I'm going to wait for you, but please don't make me wait long." /em