Author: TiKiElf

Title: Chances.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I do not own Lizzie McGuire, any of the characters or the show. But if I do, it wouldn't have been only 2 seasons.

Author's note: Non so far but this is a revised version. Not much changes though. And please, do try to bear with me if the story is going too slow or the updates are very few. The writing fanfics life does not seem to agree with me. Drop by a review! :o)

   The room isn't a place that he was used to, but he still recognized it. It was almost exactly how the television usually depicts it; whitewashed walls, gray plastic furniture, white cotton linen bed sheet and the dizzying smell of gauze and medication. But then again, it's not like any television show at all because things will not be expected to end in happily ever after or once in a lifetime miracles. And by the end of the day, there's no director to say, "that's a wrap" or any casts and crew to begin with. Because this is real life, and if either way he could escape it, he just… can't.

    David Gordon stood in the doorway, not daring enough to step in but not willing to identify himself as a coward for running away. His eyes were set upon the little machine in the corner of the dimmed room, strained to see the glowing green line. And his ears perked to listen to the continuous detached beep from the machine. But somehow, he just can't bring himself to look over at the bed. To see the real reason that he had been standing there in the doorway for too many minutes than he could be bothered to count. The very reasons that his legs are growing numb, for his eyes are growing tired and red, and for his fingers to itched to touch something – someone.

   He had heard the soft tiptoeing sound of a pair of flats on the cold marble floor long before it gradually came to a stop next to him. There was an exhale of breath before a voice finally broke the silent trance that he was in.

   "You know she'll be okay, right?"

    He turned his head slightly to the dark-haired next to him. Miranda Sanchez didn't look back but instead had kept her eyes straight into the room. The whites of her eyes and her nose were red and he could see a damp trail of tears streaked down her cheeks. He notices that she kept fingering the bracelet on her wrist – their friendship bracelet – and she only does this when she's worried. Gordo let out a heavy sigh.

   " I don't know what to think anymore."

    Her head snapped to look at him so quickly that her dark hair slapped him in the face. Her eyes narrowed at him in disbelief, and the bracelet on her wrist was immediately forgotten.

    " How can you say that? She's our best friend… and… and you don't know?!"

     Gordo turned his head to look at her squarely in the eyes, and for the first time in her life, Miranda saw that it was red and pooled with unshed tears. Gordo had never cried for all the times she had known him, and to see him like this… Miranda understood.

     " She isn't okay. And if she were, she wouldn't be lying there on that bed and we won't be here… pitying her and worrying ourselves!"

     Miranda tried attentively to hold him, even just to touch his shoulder. But he had turned away to stare into the room back again, his shoulder slumped and his dark curly hair fell lifelessly against his pale skin.

    " And I wasn't even there when it happened. I've known her all my life… and I could've lost her in a second. And I weren't there…" he whispered, fearing that Miranda might hear his voice breaking and see that his shields crumbling.

    " Look, Gordo, I know that I haven't known Lizzie as long as you do but… we all could've lost her. But we didn't, and we should be just as thankful that she's still here."

     There was a moment of silence, both lost in their own state of mind, before Miranda stepped into the room. She looked back at Gordo with her hand reached out to him, gesturing him to join her. But he kept to where he was and shook his head rigidly.

    " Come on Gordo. If you don't do this now… when? Until she could walk by herself and greet you at the door? I don't think so."

    Miranda took a step towards him, her hand trying to find his but instead, he had stepped back out of the doorway; his shoulder stiff and his hands clenched into fists.

   " No, I can't. Not now."

    Miranda looked at him dejectedly, her hand dropped beside her.

   " I think I'll go and find some drinks. I'll be back later."

   But he had no intention to get some drinks or be back here again before tomorrow afternoon. He backed out clearly out of the doorway and turned to walk off down the corridor when he accidentally bumped into someone. He muttered an apology under his breath without looking up to the person and turned to walk away when Miranda's voice stopped him.

   " Mrs. McGuire."