This chapter took a while for me to write and to a point where I feel it is just right and how I imagined! This was a challenge for me but I think you are all going to like this one! Thank you for your comments so far, they are so wonderful and I am so grateful to each of you who take the time to do so! You all keep me going, honestly!
Running down the hallway, careful to avoid hitting any medical staff or patients on the way in her desperate hurry, Liz slows her step as the ward room comes into sight. She grips onto the bag of refreshments tighter in her hand, her nails coming to shape crescents into her palms as she anticipatingly fists them. Almost slowing to a complete stop as she reaches the room, Liz lets out a deep breath, stabilising herself as she raises her fist to knock on the door. The sound of a woman, most likely Susan Arnott, calling for her to "come in" is almost lost, drowned out by her heart beating anxiously in her ears.
Creaking the door open slowly, Liz sees three heads turn to look her way: Susan, David and Steve!
Her heart jumps, seeing him sitting - no longer lying - on the bed, eyes widening at the sight of her, the smallest flitter of a smile on his lips.
The sight draws her in, forgetting to close the door behind her as she is lost in studying him. From the returned pink hues of his cheeks against the still-grey skin, to the cracked rouge of his lips and the crease of his brow as they rise, clearly surprised to see her and confused by his surroundings. His eyes are open and bright, tears reflected in them as they water from what Liz assumes to be the readjustment to the somewhat harsh hospital light.
Though, honestly, Steve is just happy to see her. Relieved. Honoured. Awed, even.
"Lizzie?" his voice cracks, coming out as a broken whisper, more tears springing to his eyes at the sight of her. She is staring wide-eyed at him, her lips stretched into something between a smile and a sob, much like, he is sure, his own.
Lizzie's heart stops at the sound of her name, it being much clearer and conscious than the last time he uttered it. She hesitates where she stands a few feet from the bed, though her heart leaps forward, battering against her chest as if aching to lead the way over to his side.
"Steve," she returns the whisper, listening as his heart monitor spikes slightly as she does.
His head has been spinning since he woke, medics and his parents giving space yet suffocating him with their relief and concern and explanations of what the hell happened. He was not sure where to look or what to hear - yet now, with Lizzie here, the spinning slows.
He tries to sit up straighter as he watches her hesitate, shifting on her feet, hoping she is feeling the same pull he does - to just reach out. To touch. But he sees her eyes flicker quickly to the man and woman standing beside him. Steve also, rather reluctantly, looks up to his parents, then understanding why she is so clearly unsure to approach.
Understanding, he then snaps his gaze back to her, head aching at the eager movement, "What are you doing here?"
Liz hesitates again, her mouth opening slightly yet closing again as her eyes flick to the chair beside him before looking back to his. He is about to strain to look himself, but his mother speaks up before he musters the effort.
"She has been here since you were brought by the ambulance," she explains, giving her son's hand a squeeze where it is held in hers, "The nurse told us."
Liz feels her breath hitch at the woman's explanation, looking to her feet as her cheeks heat. She had not told the Arnotts herself how long she had actually been there, not wanting it to sound like a boast. She is not exactly sure why the truth embarrasses her, but the idea of looking up and seeing Steve's reaction terrifies her all the same.
Steve's head hurts as he tries to comprehend it, looking to Liz for confirmation but unable to catch her lowered gaze. He turns to look up at his mother, seeing both her and his father looking over to the young woman with small, grateful smiles. So, it's true?
He turns back to look at Liz, something in the chair beside his bed then catching his eye. A pile of objects: a pillow, a blanket, an empty coffee cup, a familiar jacket and Lizzie's laptop. His mouth hangs open, shocked. It is true!
Looking back over to her, he can only stare as she continues to sink under their grateful gaze.
"In fact," Steve hears his father begin, tone something similar to pride, "Lizzie here was the one to call us."
Steve can only continue to stare.
Liz looks over to his parents, sending them a warm, yet slightly awkward, smile with a dismissive shake of her head - not at all basking in the attention all three sets of eyes are burning onto her. She braves a glance to Steve, their eyes catching and her unable to then let go again.
He is just looking at her. Staring.
She can usually read him like a book, familiar with the meaning behind every characteristic and contortion of his expression. But this is something else. Something she has not seen before. And it sets her nerves on fire.
A silence hangs heavy in the room as the pair gaze at each other. Neither knows what to say.
"Right then," Susan suddenly announces, rising from her chair and giving her son's hand another squeeze before letting go, "We should find a doctor. We have some questions."
She unsubtly hits her husband gently on the arm, sharing a look with him as he then, too, rises.
"Oh," Liz exclaims quietly, the silence now having been broken. She reaches into the bag in her hand, which she had almost forgotten, "Here are your teas. I know you didn't ask for one, sir, but I thought I would treat you. There are muffins in the bag too. One blueberry and one chocolate, I was unsure what your preferences were."
Lizzie pulls out her own drink before passing the bag over to Susan who takes it with a warm, grateful smile, "Thank you, dear. Very kind of you!"
Liz smiles back as David also nods at her, thankful. He moves past her and to the door, following after his wife.
Steve cringes at his parents' not-so-subtle excuse to leave the room, meaning they had caught onto the way he was staring at the young woman. He cringes harder as his father winks at him with a knowing smirk before closing the door behind them, leaving himself and Lizzie alone. He is almost tempted to roll his eyes at the man's jest if they did not feel as though they were burning from the hospital light. He resigns to sighing instead, though it still burns his chest.
Liz, unaware of Mr Arnott's gesture, snaps her head to him at the noise of his exhale, familiar concern once again flooding her nerves. She catches his eye once more, seeing him wince before looking back at her, his own eyes softening immediately. His hand raises ever so slightly, shaking weakly as he does.
That's all she needs to move closer now they are alone, as if he were beckoning her to come to him. She moves hastily, her legs wobbling slightly as she does in her eagerness to get to him. Liz takes his outstretched hand, restraining a gasp at how warm it now feels after days of cold. The clamminess of his palm is a welcome change, a sign he is back with her. She takes the seat beside him, pushing her belongings to the side with her hip and placing her hot chocolate on the side table. Both her hands clasp around his, lifting it slightly to clutch it against her chest, though mindful of the various tubes still sticking out of it. She can feel him squeeze back, only slightly, but appreciates that could be all of his strength after having only recently woken. And so, she is grateful at his attempt.
His heart rate monitor begins to beep more rapidly as he sits there, watching her as she looks over at him, struggling to find the words and just relishing in the feeling of his eyes on her. Conscious. Present. She begins to stroke her thumb against the back of his hand, as she had done so before while he was sleeping. It works, as it did, with the beeping of his heart beginning to slow once more until it returns entirely to a soothing, regular rhythm.
"Hi," is all he can think to say.
"Hello," she says back.
The pair break out into a quiet laugh, relieved smiles splitting their cheeks. Their hands meld together tighter for a moment in their deliriousness.
"How long was I out?" Steve asks, voice remaining quiet and a hint of his smile still unrelenting on his face as he watches her.
"Five days," Lizzie exhales, the strain and stress of those five days suddenly catching up to her as it flicks through her mind.
He had been told this when he first woke, a doctor leaning over him as he recuperated to the real world. But he needed to hear someone else say it, her say it, for it to quite sink in. Steve takes in a breath as it does, resting his head back on the pillow.
She was here beside him for five days?
His heart clenches, looking over her face as she stares up at him, seeming to be taking him in too, "And you were here the whole time?"
Liz pauses, then shrugs a little, a smirk lifting one side of her mouth, "Didn't have anything better to do."
They laugh at that, Steve indulging in the humorous feeling before he feels bile rise in his throat. He coughs, choking on it.
Liz panics slightly, letting go of one hand while keeping the other still in his, pressing slightly on his shoulder to get him to sit forward as she readjusts his pillows so he can sit up straighter. He cringes as he leans back, though it is relieved at the sight of Lizzie leaning over him, moving back into her seat.
He reaches out before he can stop himself, taking the ends of her ponytail between his fingers. She holds her breath as she sits beside him, watching his face as his eyes dance over the red strands between his fingers as he strokes the tips. She always puts her hair in a ponytail when she is stressed, he remembers, having noted that before and now celebrating the familiarity of it after only seeing darkness for so long.
His eyes move back to hers, though his fingers continue to tug gently at her hair. She allows him to do so, also strangely finding comfort in the contact.
"Your parents are lovely," Liz begins, unsure why she is attempting to make such menial conversation yet not quite knowing where else to even start, "They arrived several hours ago. Dropped everything to come up here and see you."
Steve nods, his heart jumping at the memory of having just woken up to the sight of his parents crying over him. Then the way they looked at her.
It hits him then. That they met. His parents and his Lizzie.
They must have talked. She bought them refreshments. She had called them.
Oh God.
What had they talked about? Did they talk about him? Beyond his injuries? What did they say?
And what did they think of her?
Not that it matters... Except it does. It really does. Oh God-
The smiles on his parents' faces when they explained to him her commitment over the last week calms him immediately.
They like her. Of course they do.
How could they not?
Several hours ago they arrived, Lizzie said. That was more than enough time to realise just how wonderful this woman is. How warm and kind and genuine and loyal and- God, I wish there were words.
He has tried so many times before to find them. To explain. Steve never meant to talk about Lizzie so much to his parents. But when they asked how everything was going, and with the little he could - or wanted to - talk about work, she just seemed to be the next best thing he could offer.
He just hopes they think she is everything he told them she is.
"Yeah," Steve sighs slightly as he drops his hand from her hair, still unable to look away from her, greedy for her warmth and the way she is looking at him so… wonderfully. He gets lost in it, forgetting completely to continue the conversation with her.
Liz just looks back, noting his hesitance to continue discussing his parents, for whatever reason.
She thinks of something else to say - anything!
"Scare me like that again and I will kill you myself," she decides upon. Scowling playfully at the man and giving his hand another squeeze, warningly.
Steve's face brightens again, his eyes finally moving away from hers to his lap as he winces through a laugh.
Liz chuckles too, though an emptiness rises in her chest. She thought lightening the mood would work, vanquishing the unspoken heaviness lingering around them. It wasn't enough.
Her face falls as she stays quiet another moment. Steve notices her silence, turning back to her with a curious frown. He watches as her eyes unfocus, getting lost somewhere he cannot follow.
"I thought I had lost you," she eventually whispers, so quiet he is even unsure she had spoken at all.
His chest heaves, something indescribable pressing down onto it. He struggles to find a response.
He wants to apologise, seeing etched into her dry skin and tangled into her frazzled hair the worry and stress she has experienced since his incident. But he knows any sort of blame will anger her.
There is so much he wants to say. So much he would say if he knew how. And if his head was not spinning quite so much.
So, much like she just had, he decides to smirk, speaking quietly as he leans slightly closer to her face, "Can't get rid of me that easily."
His breath catches as Liz looks up then, tears clouding her eyes as their faces remain only inches from each other. She sends him a small, amused smile. Yet Steve notes something softer - fonder - lingering on her lips. HE can almost taste it on his own, excruciatingly close.
He can feel her light breath caressing his cheeks as she speaks, eyes boring into his own as she whispers.
"Wouldn't want to."
Her sincerity strikes his heart.
And Steve Arnott cannot deny it any longer.
I love her.
I love Elizabeth Thornton.
He expects to feel scared. Relieved. Excited, maybe.
He expects his head to spin again. Or his chest to ache.
Just as it did whenever he had considered his feelings for her before. Like trying to explain exactly how much she means to him, or the jealousy he would feel whenever she spoke of another man, or the fear of ever losing her, or anytime he has allowed himself to indulge in the idea of them together as more than what they are.
Hell, especially after the infliction of such a serious head injury and whatever drugs they were currently pumping into him - Steve expects this epiphany to hurt.
But it doesn't.
In fact, this is the most sober, most painless and most grounded he has felt in a long while. Since meeting her, perhaps.
Like he has known for some time. Like he has always known.
It was not realising it that was holding him back. Not accepting it is what hurt.
But now things are clear. Clearer than ever.
I love her. I love her. I love Lizzie.
Of course he does. Of course he has.
I love her. I love her. I love Lizzie.
So what do I do now?
He waits for a thought. Nothing.
What do I say?
Again, he waits. Nothing.
So he does just that. Nothing.
Nothing but watch as Lizzie - the woman he loves! - speaks to him, her words falling on deaf ears.
Her mouth stops moving as she looks to him expectantly, a smirk playing on her face.
"Sorry, what did you say?" Steve asks, shaking his head slightly as his thoughts return to the physical present. His cheeks heat, his self-confession beginning to sink in.
Liz smiles, assuming the man is still recuperating from waking, before continuing, "I said, good news your one remaining brain cell is still intact!"
Her words take a moment to realise themselves in Steve's mind, fighting to be heard above the deafeningly silent revelation occupying it - I love her. I love her. I love Lizzie! - He lets out a short, winded laugh, playing along, "No luck finding any more during the MRI scan then?"
Liz's smile widens, pleased he is conscious enough to recognise and encourage her humour. She squeezes his hand a little tighter, relieved and grateful to once again be here joking with him.
Steve's heart almost gives out as he feels her press a short kiss to the back of his hand before grinning back up at him, her eyes bright. If it were not for the sound of the spiking monitor beside him, he would be sure he has slipped into heavenly ascension again.
"Thank you," he hears himself say, sincere, as he gazes gratefully over to her. She blushes, loosening her hold on his palm slightly as she places their joined hands back down onto the bed after cradling them for so long. Her eyes drop to them, bashfully, following the movement her thumb makes as it strokes the back of his hand once again.
It is not what Steve wants to say. Not what he needs to say.
But his head begins to ache as he tries to comprehend everything - I love her, I love her, I love her! - fear beginning to seep through and settle around his heart. There is the familiar aching of his chest she has caused on numerous occasions before. This woman that he loves. Sat beside him now. As she always is.
That aching risen in his chest, it could be a result of his attack. But it is so familiar to him. The way it reverberates around his ribs. Something he has felt so many times before. All because of her. And he knows what it is now...
Love.
He loves her. He thinks he may always have loved her. And that terrifies him.
I love her. I love her. I love Lizzie.
This changes everything - and yet, changes nothing at all.
He needs time to process this, to process everything. The case, the attack, the condition he is in, the consequences it may have, that he loves her - he loves her!
So, for now, his utterance of "thank you" will suffice.
He means it, after all. More than he will ever be able to express and in more ways he will ever be able to explain.
"Ted should be on his way," she suddenly says, breaking Steve once again from his cascading thoughts, blushing slightly under the rather intense gaze the man is burning into her, "I asked one of the nurses to call him. He has some questions about the attack."
Steve winces, straining to think over what had happened, trying to push past his thoughts of her, "I don't remember much, but I-"
She shushes him, reaching her other hand to place it on his forehead, soothingly pushing back the short hair there as she had done before while he was sleeping. Steve suddenly becomes concerned about the layer of sweat that hair sprung there at his starting to remember the events of five days ago. Liz does not seem to mind it, smiling over at him, sweetly, and calming him as only Liz can. He indulge sin the feeling on her fingers raking against his scalp.
"Just rest for now," she instructs, kindly, her hand moving from his forehead and stroking down to the side of his cheek where it rests for a moment. Steve finds himself leaning into it, closing his eyes for a moment to fully submerge himself in the bliss of the touch of the woman he loves!
"Kate was here, too," Liz explains, caressing his now-stubbled jaw, mindful of the bloomed bruise there, "Could not stay long in case she was caught and blew her cover, but thought you were worth the risk. She was worried. We all were."
Steve opens his eyes, hazily, touched by their concern for him.
"Thank you for calling my parents," he says, still pushing his cheek against her palm to encourage her to keep it there, which she does.
She shrugs, "I thought they ought to know. They came as soon as they could-"
"Steve!"
The door has opened, revealing Ted to be standing there, DC Desford close behind him with a file in his hands.
Liz drops her hand from his face, wrapping it around her stomach as she sends a warm smile to the men who walk into the room. Steve misses the contact immediately.
Jamie hovers at the end of it as Hastings moves around the bed, a relieved grin on his face, "How are you, son? How are you feeling?"
"Awful," Steve sighs, voice croaking.
"That's the spirit," Hastings quips, a sympathetic softness to his voice. The older man makes eye contact with his goddaughter in acknowledgement, who chuckles lightly at their interaction.
"All right," Jamie nods.
"All right," Steve returns.
"They looking after you?" Hastings asks, kindly, lowering his voice, "Anybody need shaking up?"
Steve turns to look to Lizzie again, gazing at her almost blazingly, "I'm in good hands, sir."
Hastings catches onto the man's pointed gaze and the way Beth blushes under it. He then notices their joined hands beside where he lays on the bed. It makes him smile.
"Good," he smirks, "Now, if you don't mind, we'll just get straight to it?"
Steve nods, as Liz begins to rise from her seat, loosening her hold of his hands, "I'll step out and give you a minute."
But she feels an insistent tug on her hand, looking down to see Steve staring up at her.
"Stay," he pleads, softly.
Liz turns to catch eyes with the Superintendent, both touched by the gesture and embarrassed at the display in front of her godfather. But Ted nods with a small smile on his face, prompting her to return to her seat and her hold on Steve.
"I'll do my best," Steve promises, though his head aches already.
"Good man," Hastings nods, looking to Jamie who begins to take notes, "Do you remember much at all about what happened to you?"
Steve looks away from him, staring at the wall. Liz can see the memories swimming behind his eyes, trying to form as a solid thought, "Talking on the phone to Nick Huntley, going up in the lift… Someone jumped me, hit me over the head. After that, it's all hazy."
"Right, well," Hastings says as Jamie pulls something out of the file, "We have a CCTV image we would like you to take a look at."
Jamie holds it up in front of Steve, him blinking a few times as he looks at the image of a man in a balaclava walking away down an alley.
"Now, do you think that could be your attacker?" Ted prompts.
"A lot of it is blank, sir," Steve whispers, clearly struggling to remember. Liz can see the strain on his face due to the effort. Another moment passes before he tries to speak again, "I'm not sure if he's the one who attacked me, or- or I'm getting mixed up with images of Balaclava Man."
Steve continues to stare at the picture, squinting, "I thought there was a baseball bat… but he doesn't have one."
Liz feels sick imagining what he must have gone through. A bat to the head and then being thrown down three flights of stairs - her stomach twists uneasily. He doesn't deserve it. The doctors said they need to do more tests now he is awake to see if there will be any longer-lasting damage. Liz dreads to think, thought it is all she has been thinking of for the last five days in this room alone with his unconscious self. For now, she is just so relieved for him to be awake and, well, alive.
"Maybe I'm remembering an old case," Steve shakes his head, closing his eyes in frustration at his lack of recollection. Liz strokes the back of his hand with her thumb again to try and ease his irritation, seeing his brow immediately relax as she does.
"Is there any chance that this could be Nick Huntley?" Hastings asks.
Steve shakes his head with a sigh, "I don't know."
"Well," Ted sighs himself, clearly disappointed but keeping kind for Steve's sake, "full marks for honesty, son."
Jamie lowers the file, tucking the picture back into it.
"We will let you rest, keep you updated for anything we find," Ted promises, determined, "We will get to the bottom of this."
Steve nods gratefully, though Ted sees he has already returned his gaze to Liz. Just looking at her.
"Thank you," Liz smiles at the older man, not seeming to notice the younger man's intense gaze.
Ted nods back at her, moving around the bed to the door, Jamie leading the way out.
"I'm glad you're doing better, Steve," Hastings says, sincerely as he looks back at the man in the bed from the doorway.
"Thank you, sir," Steve says, though once again returns his gaze to Liz. She looks back at him too, Ted watching for a moment as the pair just look at each other, hands entwined, just grateful to have each other back again. Ted is thankful for that too. He smiles to himself, stepping to the side to allow the Arnotts to pass before following Jamie down the corridor.
I love her, I love her, I love her - Steve's mind continues to chant, the thought growing louder and louder, clearer and clearer each time he repeats the phrase. He watches, entranced, as she looks away from him over to his parents who are moving across the room, sending them a smile. But he doesn't care if they are there, he can't.
It is like he is seeing her for the first time. Sobered yet overwhelmed.
Her hair is frizzed from stress, her eyes red from exhaustion, the lines on her forehead deeply creased. The darkness encircling her eyes contrasting to the pale grey of her skin and the pink tinge to her cheekbones.
But she has never looked more beautiful to him than in that moment. No, not beautiful. She's- here he is, struggling to find the words again - she is so-
Lizzie. She's so Lizzie.
His head begins to spin again, overwhelmed. That is when he hears her laugh at something his father must have said.
God, I love her.
"I can give you a minute if you would like. I am sure you have a lot to catch up on," he then hears her say, feeling her rise again.
That steadies him.
He tugs her hand as he did before, about to protest. But his mother speaks up first.
"Nonsense, you should stay! Would be lovely to get to know you better!"
Liz feels her heart jump a little, looking back over to Steve to see her just stare up at her, pleading for her to stay again with wide eyes.
He's looking at her, an unreadable expression on his face. There's something different about his gaze now, Lizzie notes. A glint in his eye that is both achingly familiar and alarmingly unrecognisable. She tries to place it as she usually can, but finds herself struggling to determine what exactly he is thinking behind those eyes.
He smiles, as does she.
Breaking his gaze for a moment, though still feeling his eyes on her, she sends a smile over to his parents who grin back at her.
"So, Steven told us about your network, sounds like a brilliant idea," David Arnott begins, prompting conversation, "Said you're hoping to turn it into a nationwide scheme? How is that going for you?"
Liz feels her heart jump again, eyes meeting with Steve's once more. He has told them about O.K.? How did that come up in conversation? Why?
She sees Steve blink at her, encouragingly, still staring at her in that way he is - whatever way that is.
She turns back to his parents who are looking at her eagerly, thanking David for his praise and beginning to explain it all to them. She is encouraged by the idea that perhaps Steve told them because he really is proud of her and considers it something worthy of telling people about. She also finds herself emboldened by the way he is gazing at her.
Steve continues to stare as she talks, not meaning to but fixated on her brightness. His heart monitor spikes at the excitement and pride in her eyes.
He does not know what long-term consequences this attack will have on him, or how long it will take for him to recover. He does not know where the case is headed or what their next move should be to solve it. He does not know how to process his realisation of his feelings for her or what affect this may have on their relationship going forward.
But it does not matter to him now. What matters is what he does know.
And he knows that he loves her. He loves Lizzie. His Lizzie.
I love her, I love her, I love her.