A/N, so I hit a bit of a writer's block on my other M7 story, so I decided to write a one-shot in response to the music related fan fiction challenge over in the M7 forum. This story is based on the song "Highway Don't Care", by Tim Mcgraw. I used some points from the music video as well. I have only Nathan and Chris in this story, although I'm sure the other five are lurking in the background somewhere! And regarding the medical stuff, most of it is probably pretty unrealistic, but, hey, it's fiction! Hope y'all enjoy!

"This is it! I'm not doing this anymore. I can't!" Marcy Stevenson yelled.

"Fine, 'cause I can't either." Chris Larabee turned around and crossed his arms over his aching chest. It always seemed to end like this, leaving only scars and bad memories.

"You're so arrogant and conceited. You never cared about anything but yourself!" Marcy screamed. All the stress from the last couple of weeks had built up to an unbearable amount, and she was letting it out now.

"You say I'm conceited?" Chris turned around again. "How would you explain the way you were acting at the party last night if it wasn't conceited?"

"I-I-I," Stammered Marcy. "You know what? You can just go to hell, 'cause I never want to see you again." Angrily, she grabbed her coat and phone, and ran out the door, leaving Chris standing there, catching flies with his mouth.

She jumped in her car, a grey Chevrolet Cavalier, put it in drive and zoomed off into the twilight.

As she drove with the wind coming through the open window and blowing in her face, Marcy had no choice but to think about what had just happened. She hadn't meant to cuss at Chris or to blow up at him like that, but when she realized she was as much to blame as Chris was, she'd gotten embarrassed, and for her, embarrassment quickly turned into anger.

She was driving close to twenty miles over the speed limit on the almost empty highway, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"It's his fault!" She nearly screamed, trying to make herself feel better about it. "He shouldn't have been so stuck-up, and-and mean!" But the more she tried to convince herself that it was Chris's fault, the guiltier she felt.

She reached for her phone, which was lying on the passenger seat, hoping that Chris had texted her. She growled frustratedly; nothing there.

She put it back and sped up even more. In an effort to stay awake after the many long, sleepless nights and get her attention off of her boyfriend – no, ex-boyfriend – she turned on the radio.

"I can't live without you, I can't live without you baby." The speakers blared.

Marcy was a music lover, but she cringed at the lyrics, as they did the opposite of taking her mind off her break-up; this song described her to a tee. She was going to turn it off but decided to wait for the next song. Instead, she reached for her phone again. Still no texts. Frustrated, she threw it back, not noticing when it slipped off the passenger seat, and onto the floor.

Her heart was screaming at her to turn around, but instead of listening to it, she focused on the part of her that was still feeling hurt and angry and drove on.

She was feeling so miserable and heart-broken and guilty, that she punched the steering wheel in frustration. Her eyes were full of unshed tears, and she did her best to keep them unshed, knowing that once the first tear rolled got out, the floodgates would open, and the tears would cascade down her cheeks.

A deer ran over the road in front of the car, and Marcy almost crashed into it. All the earlier emotions now combined with this shock resulted in tears beginning to stream down her face.

"I can't live without you, I can't live without you baby." Taylor Swift wasn't helping her predicament much; Marcy felt so desperately miserable as tears blurred her vision and she couldn't even turn off the radio when she realized the station wasn't going to play anything else.

She felt like Taylor was right there in her car, singing in her ear.

Trying to block out the music and thoughts of Chris, while doing her best to stay on the road as the light faded and her eyes blurred with tears, her head started hurting and she rubbed it hard, desperately wishing that this was just a nightmare that she would wake up from in a minute.

Marcy had to let it out somehow, so she started singing along to the song. "I can't live without you, I can't live without you baby. I can't live without you, I can't live without you baby, oh baby."

She couldn't help it, she had to check her phone again. But as she reached for it, she couldn't find it. She felt around the whole seat, then risked a glance and noticed it was on the floor.

The words of the song still echoing in her ears, Marcy leaned over to pick it up. Her hand moved the steering wheel to the right without her noticing it.

Luckily, her foot came off the gas pedal when she leaned, which slowed the car before it veered right.

Marcy didn't even hear her frightened scream, as the car went into the ditch, and rolled, before finally coming to a stop. Upside down with Marcy hanging unconscious partway out of the window.

"I can't live without you, baby." Came from the speakers one last time.

At the hospital, Doctor Nathan Jackson hurried to help wheel in the stretcher which held the young woman who'd just arrived in a STARS helicopter.

Her neck was in a brace, and she was tied to the stretcher, so as to keep her from moving and making broken bones worse. She had an oxygen mask over her bloody face, and Doctor Jackson's heart skipped a beat when he looked at her more closely.

"Nurse!" He yelled to a nurse standing nearby.

"Yes, doctor?" She came running.

"Get somebody to call Chris Larabee." Dr. Jackson continued to give the nurse his number, which she wrote down on a paper pad. "Tell her about this young lady; he's the only family she has." He figured that if it got them to get Chris there faster, he might as well stretch the truth a little. Marcy really didn't have any family, and Chris being her boyfriend was the next closest thing.

Half an hour later, Chris came running into the hospital. He lived out of town, and it had been hard for him to stay only a little over the speed limit as he hurried to get to the hospital.

Now, his face tight with worry, he asked where Marcy was and was directed to her room. After a long period of arguing with the nurse, who only wanted immediate family to see Marcy, Dr. Jackson came along and allowed Chris to enter.

With a little choking sound in his throat, Chris rushed to Marcy's side.

"Marcy." He whispered as he knelt beside the bed. She was on IV, she wore a cervical collar to keep her neck straight, and both her legs and her right arm were in temporary braces to keep them straight until the doctors could set them and fix any shattered bones. A heart monitor peeped relatively steady beside her.

"She's in a coma, Chris." Dr. Jackson's voice was right beside him. "She can't hear you right now."

Chris stayed silent, not acknowledging Nathan's presence as he kept staring at Marcy's pale face behind the oxygen mask.

"Chris, we're taking her to surgery now. She has internal bleeding close to her brain. You have to wait outside." Nathan said quietly. He helped his friend to his feet and led the man outside. Then he seated Chris on a bench right outside the room. "You can see her again after the surgery."

The man in black, usually so independent and strong looked like he would keel over any moment, and seemed oblivious to Nathan's presence. Obviously, he was in shock.

Nathan sighed and returned to the task at hand.

Four hours later, Chris was pacing outside the surgery room. A nurse had brought him a glass of water, and he was back in the land of the living, so to speak.

The door opened, and Chris jumped forward as a tired looking Nathan stepped out, followed by another doctor and two nurses, while another two nurses stayed in the room, cleaning up.

"How is she?" Chris asked quickly.

"She's stable. Once the anaesthesia wears off, she should wake up." Nathan said, leaning against the wall.

"Can I see her now?"

Nathan smiled tiredly. "Just give the nurses time to bring her back to her own room."

Chris nodded and started pacing again.

Half an hour later, Marcy was settled in her room again. Chris sat down on a chair beside her bed, waiting for her to wake up while talking to her in soothing tones.

Finally, Marcy's eyes began to flutter, and the peeping of the heart monitor became stronger and steadier.

Chris abandoned the chair to kneel beside her bed again. He carefully took her hand and held it in his own.

Marcy moved her head as much as the brace would allow her to, and finally, albeit slowly, opened her eyes.

"Oh, Marcy!" Chris whispered, tears running down his face. "Marcy, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have acted like that. It's all my fault."

Marcy smiled a little, her eyes warm as she stared into Chris's eyes. She shook her head a little bit at what he was saying and squeezed his hand.

Then she fell back a little and closed her eyes for a couple of seconds as if that little bit of moving had exhausted her.

"Marcy, I promise I'm never going to let you leave again. I love you. Nothing is ever going to come between us ever again, you hear?" Chris said softly, no sternness evident in that last bit; only sincerity.

Marcy smiled again with both her eyes and mouth, then slowly closed her eyes and fell into a calm sleep.

Chris rocked back on his heels, never letting go of Marcy's hand. He meant what he said, and the fact that she'd been able to smile and squeeze his hand, showed that she felt the same.

For the first time in a while, Chris felt relaxed and so overwhelmingly happy.

This would work out.