A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, follows, and favorites!

So it looks like the category is only accessible through mobile? I was messing around and it wouldn't allow me to add this story through a laptop so...it's staying in the misc. movies category until further notice!

Disclaimer: I still own nothing but I found out my beta's grandfather worked on a show I love...that's cool!


Phillip wiped his eyes as he filled his coffee cup. He hadn't slept well in over a week; the hospital was kind enough to let him kip in a spare bed next to Anne, but the constant bustle of the hospital did nothing for a restful sleep.

"She's sleeping," a gruff voice said from his left and Phillip looked up to see W.D. next to him. His left shoulder was completely bandaged and his arm in a sling, he moved slower than normal, but he was standing and able to walk unassisted.

"How are you doing?" he asked, and W.D. shrugged. He carried his cup over to an empty table and W.D. followed after making his own cup of coffee.

"It hurts worse some days than other days, but I'll be alright," he finally replied, over stirring his coffee for lack of something to do. "I'm regaining grip strength." He flexed his hand to prove the point and Phillip grinned.

"That's fantastic. You'll be back up in the air in no time," Phillip encouraged. "When was the last time you slept in a real bed?" he changed the topic and W.D. gave him a wry look. He slept in the bed next to Anne's while Phillip slept in the other.

"I could ask the same of you," he retorted and Phillip chuckled with a nod to the affirmative.

"I'm not the one recovering from a twenty foot fall," Phillip reminded. "Why don't you go get something real to eat, a decent wash, and sleep in a real bed for a night?" he offered but W.D shook his head. "At least go get something real to eat; you need something more than what passes for food here."

"I'll bring you back something warm," W.D. offered and Phillip smiled.

"Why don't you stop by the circus and let Jess fawn over you a bit?" Phillip nudged with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk and the man who performed death-defying acts on a near-daily basis blushed at the suggestion. He mumbled something that could have sounded like mind your own business or that's my business and Phillip didn't bother to clarify.

Once W.D. left there was no reason to stay in the cafeteria so he abandoned his coffee and planned to go back to Anne's side-except when he returned to the ward she was no longer in bed.

"Mr. Carlyle," Dr. Avery called. Phillip jogged up to the man attending another patient, waiting to speak with him.

"Where's Anne?" Phillip asked, once Avery could give him his full attention.

"She's not healing as fast as we'd like," he informed, "so we sent for a new round of x-rays to see if the swelling has subsided."

"If?" Phillip caught, "what do you mean, if?" Avery sighed and Phillip was beginning to hate that tell-it meant horrible, potentially life-altering news.

"It's been a week since the accident," Avery reminded, "normally swelling decreases in that time, typically substantially, but in some measurable way. In Ms. Wheeler, it doesn't seem to have decreased at all."

"What are you saying?" Phillip demanded, his tone harsh but low.

"I need to wait for the x-rays," Avery tried to sooth but Phillip boxed the man in between bed, forcing him to confront the situation.

"What. Are. You. Saying?" Phillip repeated slowly.

"I can't tell you for sure," Avery warned, "but there's a very good possibility Ms. Wheeler will never walk again."

It was so blunt, so truthful, it smacked Phillip in the chest and he stumbled backwards, tripping and falling over himself. Nurses rushed over to help him stand but he couldn't feel their hands on his arms or his feet on the floor, he could only hear the words over and over again-never walk again.

"Son, I know this is a lot to take in," Avery helped him sit on the edge of an empty bed but his voice sounded far away, as if he were shouting through a many-walled house, "but this is very preliminary. I'm taking precautions and measuring her progress; we'll know more once the x-rays are in." He wasn't sure if he responded but Avery left him alone and eventually the nurses followed suite.

He never thought of Anne not being able to walk, of being stuck in a chair, or worse a bed, the rest of her life. His bright, vibrant Anne confined to such means wrung his heart to tears and without realizing, tears streamed down his face, splashing onto his black pants. He would do everything he could for her, anything he could for her, but would it, could it, be enough?

"Phillip?" the soft voice crashed over him as a wave crashes over the sand and he jarred out of his stupor, looking up into the eyes of his mother. "Dear, what's wrong?" she asked, pulling him close. He remembered climbing into her lap as a boy and even though he was well past the age, she hugged him close and sobs wracked his body as he imagined a new life for Anne he would do anything to trade places for.

"What-what are you doing here?" he asked once he felt composed enough to speak without hiccuping.

"I called on Mr. Barnum," she answered, brushing his hair from his eyes. "He informed me you haven't left the hospital. We read about what happened and we feared it might have been you in the accident."

"Anne and W.D. fell," he explained. "W.D. dislocated his shoulder and broke a few bones but Anne…she fell on her back."

"How are you doing, dear?" she soothed as only a mother could, laying a comforting hand on his.

"I'm not hurt," he reiterated, "but Anne isn't healing as fast as they thought she would," he told her and she nodded sympathetically.

"Your father and I have been talking," his mother whispered hesitantly. "We miss you and want you to come home." Phillip sat silently, dumbfounded.

"You want to do this here?" his voice cracked, looking around the hospital ward. "Now?"

"Phillip, your father and I have come to an arrangement," she continued softly, firmly holding him down to prevent a scene. "We will pay for any medical expenses or care she'll need-"

"Her name," Phillip seethed, "is Anne."

"-and you come home," she continued as though he hadn't spoken.

"I will be the one to care for her," Phillip insisted turning to face his mother head on, "and I'm not leaving her."

"Phillip," she sighed, "you said she's not getting better. What will happen when she can't walk? Can't care for herself? Will you quit the pitance you make and become a full-time caregiver?"

"If that is what it takes, yes!" he argued.

"We're offering you a way out," she insisted. "Out of caring for someone you'll grow to resent because they become a burden."

"Like you and father?" Phillip spat and the moment the words left his lips, both parties sat up a little straighter, eyes wide, and looked away. For the first time since she arrived, he looked around at the ward and even though the doctors and nurses appeared busy, he could tell they had been eavesdropping a moment before.

"I can see I won't be able to change your mind," his mother broke the silence, standing and gathering her things. Phillip wanted to say something, anything, to take back the words that flew out of his mouth. But like a bell, once rung he couldn't stop the echo of damage in his ears as he watched his mother walk away without an apology, a statement, or a good-bye.

^v^v^

He was still sitting at the edge of the bed, the argument with his mother replaying through his head over and over, when Anne was brought back. She took one look at him and moved the few fingers she could closer to his, running the pad of her fingertips over the back of the hand closest to her.

"What happened?" she asked in a tone that defied him to lie to her and he gave a wallowing smile.

"My mother stopped by," he told her, hitching a leg onto the bed to face her more fully and picked up her hand, caressing it in his. "How are you feeling?"

"You don't get out of it that easily," she quirked an eyebrow expectantly and he shook his head.

"She made a ridiculous proposition," he went a little deeper without revealing much but Anne was having none of it. "My parents offered to pay for all medical and care expenses…if I go back home."

"There's the rub," Anne sighed and Phillip nodded. "What did you say?" she asked a moment later, her voice soft and uncertain.

"We exchanged words and she left without a deal; why would you even ask?" Phillip questioned. "Everyone thinks I'm going to leave you because of this, I can't bear to think you believe the same."

"They may not be telling me," Anne said, "but I know the longer I go without healing, the worse it probably is. You don't need me as a burden."

"You are not a burden," Phillip insisted, reaching over to take her left hand in his. "See this?" he rotated the engagement ring on her finger, the diamond catching the trickling sunlight in the hospital windows and seemingly reflecting it ten fold. "I love you-whether or not you can walk or whether or not I have to care for you. You have never been and you will never be a burden."

"You say that now but-" he cut off the rest of her sentence with a searing kiss, pouring all his love, his fears, their hopes and dreams, their future, giving her his life as if he would never be able to kiss her again.

"You are not, and will never be, a burden," he whispered fiercely, breathless once he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. He twined their fingers together and brought her hand to his heart. "You brought joy to my life, living without you isn't an option."

"I love you," she whispered, tears leaking from the corner of eyes as she squeezed his hand as hard as she could.

"I love you, too" he replied, gently kissing her, "and when you walk out of here, we'll celebrate by buying you a white wedding dress."

"I would be happy enough to walk out of here," Anne smiled, "but I'm glad you came around to my point of view."


A/N 2: So, mostly angst but some fluff! The last part will wrap up this segment and then we go back to true one-shots.

To clear up a few misconceptions: the real story of Barnum takes place at the turn of the century, so I'm setting this around 1905 to 1910. I don't have an exact date but these are for fun, not a serious story so please don't ask me to be more accurate than the movie.

X-rays were first used in hospitals in 1895, ambulances have been used since the 14th century and Bellevue was the first to offer a horse-drawn system by the 1900s so you could call for aid, triage systems were created by Nightingale (yes, that Nightingale) in the Civil War, and cafeterias in hospitals have pretty much always existed in some fashion or another but the food was notoriously poor quality.

Yes, I'm taking some creative license because I'm not a doctor and I don't understand spinal injuries, broken bones, or dislocated shoulders. I've done some Googling, read medical journals, and attempted to understand biology and medicine far beyond my current level. If there are any mistakes, just roll with it. If you happen to be a medical historian and can clear some of this up in layman's terms I'd be happy to speak with you.

As always, if you feel the need to flame please, flame responsibly :)