Hello everybody!  Here is the second chapter. I hope you enjoy it and try not to be too harsh in your reviews! :P

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Harry grunted. Dim light blurred his sight when his eyelids flickered open. He shut them immediately. He could feel a throbbing pain in his left leg – god please allow it not to be trapped! Carefully, he manipulated his leg into movement. It worked, and though he winced with pain, he could easily tell it wasn't broken and it was free to move.

"Lara?" Harry asked into the back of the car. He hadn't yet opened his eyes fully, and he was dreading the moment. "Lara?" He asked again in a more desperate tone.

There was no answer. All Harry could hear was the screeching of birds, and a muffled silence. No distant cars, no running water, no civilisation. No Lara. Slowly, Harry pried his eyelids open again. Next to him, a deflated air bag rose gently and fell, aided by the breeze entering through the smashed windscreen. Harry's hand somehow made it to his seatbelt fastener and pressed it loose. The seatbelt strap seemed to recoil away from Harry, releasing pressure off of his chest.

"Lara?" Harry repeated the name. He was scared now. The car was surrounded by trees; a huge oak blocked his own side of the car. He wasn't able to fully twist in his seat, to peer into the back of the car but the rear-view mirror hung, just in his reach, dangling from some left-over windscreen glass.

Grimacing, Harry pushed his arm forwards towards the mirror. Once he had hold of it, he twisted it, pulling it towards his own face. He peered anxiously into the reflection that greeted him. No Lara. But how could that be?

The smell of fuel was beginning to push in on Harry, nauseating him, making him feel sick. His body suddenly convulsed, and he lurched forwards, vomiting into the black space beneath the steering wheel. Feeling empty, he leant back into the soft seat. Warm fluid was trickling down from his forehead and he pressed his palm to his head, wiping the red smudge clean.

Realising what the presence of petrol meant, Harry levered himself gingerly upwards, so that he could fully turn in his seat. His stomach screamed and his leg throbbed yet more insistently, but Harry managed to turn so he faced the back of the car.

Lara had been thrown onto the floor, below the seats. Her previously pristine white dress was smeared with red and her blonde hair was a darker shade of death. Harry was shocked. Had he done this? Had he caused this situation? Could he really deny it? All at once his deep love for Lara struck him and he painfully clambered into the back of the car.

Gently, he cupped Lara's head in his hands and raised it upwards. He knew he shouldn't have been touching her, he shouldn't have moved her without the paramedics, the body boards, but this was Lara, Lara in a wrecked car, a car surrounded by petrol that could ignite at any moment. He couldn't just leave her; he had to do something!

Wrapping his arms around the slim body, he tenderly eased the doctor up, and laid her on the car seats. He was ignoring his leg, which still bothered him, in his adoration of the unconscious woman.

Lara's face was battered and bloody, he realised her arm was most probably broken but Harry was delighted that a strong pulse still remained. He hadn't killed her! He soothingly stroked her blood-stained face, fingering the lace of her wedding dress. Shards of glass from the windows had torn into Lara's skin; some large pieces went deep, causing bleeding from Lara's body. Harry wished he cold remove the glass, but knew there was a chance of further injuring her.

"It's alright, its okay baby," Harry whispered into Lara's ears. "You're safe now, I'll keep you safe." After several moments of purely caressing her, in his complete glee to find her alive, Harry sensed that he somehow had to get her out of the car, and away from this potential death-machine.

Reaching forwards, Harry's hand clasped the metal spring which controlled Lara's door. Unwillingly, the door swung forwards a little, smashing into the giant oak and slamming shut again. Harry cursed and punched his hand into the car seat. If he didn't manage to get Lara out of the car in time, not only would it mean the death of his love, but probably a lifetime of imprisonment for Harry Harper.

Exhausted by his huge effort, Harry leant back against the seat of the car. Clasping Lara's hand, he muttered, "just a moment, just a little rest...need a bit more energy."

His breathing was becoming more laboured; his chest was paining him more. He began to shut his eyes, but discovered images jumping out at him!

"Harry, pullover!"

"Stop the car Harry!"

"Pullover Harry!"

"Stop the car!"

No! NO! This wasn't his fault! Lara was hurt, but he hadn't caused it! He would never harm Lara, not intentionally! He loved Lara; she was dearer to him than anything. Hard as it was to admit, he would probably mourn the loss of Lara, far greater than that of his daughter, Tally. No. That wasn't true. He loved his children, of course he did...it was just...a different kind of love.

Oh God. Harry could see it now. Himself, in prison, locked in a cell. Everybody believing him to be responsible for 'Lara's injuries', for 'Lara's disability', for 'Lara's death'. He hated to state the truth, but the truth was that Lara had never recognised Harry's love for her. She had always thought of him as somebody trying to ruin her fun, wreck her pleasure, when really he had been protecting her. And, and what with the, well, the 'lead-up' to the accident, Harry was pretty sure that Lara would be confused about what had really happened. He could see her now, screaming at him to stop the car, to let her out, to break. Might she not remember only her emotions, might not others interpret Lara's fear falsely?

And what if she was concussed? What if she only remembered screaming at him to stop? Harry was growing more and more certain that Lara's memories of the incident would be misguided ones, that any reminders Lara had of the crash would only serve to harm Harry, and distance him from her.

Harry was aware that he was growing more and more paranoid, but whenever he closed his eyes and the screaming echoed again in his head, he just couldn't help himself. He realised with sudden shock that Lara had confessed her love for him! Lara, had told him, she loved him! Harry was suddenly ecstatic with joy and he turned greedily towards Lara, to notice that her dress was torn. He shook his head; this couldn't be right, no. It felt as though he was being set-up here, and all he had ever done was love her! Reaching for the rip in Lara's dress, he pulled the fabric down to cover her bare legs. She was so beautiful. So lovely. But then, she would also be the cause of Harry's imprisonment if he didn't act fast.

Harry eyed Lara suspiciously. He loved her so much! But his love had only ever got him hurt before, and he didn't think he could take any more pain right now. He could already see the headlines, "Jealous Doctor Death kills – for lack of love," "Doctor murders for absence of feeling". He wouldn't be able to take it! Everybody at the hospital knew of his feelings for Lara. They all knew how he hated Kaminski, how he accused Lara of throwing away her life. Some of them would be aware of his glee when the wedding broke down. They'd all realise that he had driven her away, and, and that her phone had been discovered on a country lane! Harry swore loudly. He might not be a police officer, but if the case was put to him, he was pretty sure what he would think. And then, if Lara accused him too, if Lara said he refused to stop the car, that she remembered pleading with him to 'let her out', well then...

What could he do? Lara was so perfect, but then he would probably never get to see her again if she survived. But then, was he being paranoid? After all, it had merely been an innocent crash. It wasn't as though he had planned it! It wasn't his fault Lara hadn't been wearing her seatbelt! It wasn't his fault she had thrown away her phone, plus she had voluntarily entered the car, he hadn't forced her. In truth, it had been an accident. Surely, surely if Harry had only made a mistake, had been slightly reckless in his driving, surely they couldn't do anything to him then? But then...wasn't it true that Lara had wanted to go to the airport? Harry certainly hadn't been taking her there. True, Harry had just been driving for the sake of it, just delaying Lara's departure, just finding opportunity to talk to her, but what if they viewed it differently? What if they thought he had been keeping her in the car, driving her somewhere else, keeping her against her will? It did look slightly suspicious...Harry had no idea where they were! They were in the middle of nowhere, yet it had only taken him ten minutes to get to the wedding venue in the first place. Harry may have been slightly paranoid, but it wasn't like the evidence was on his side. There was so much room for misunderstandings, what if they thought he intended to – no. It was too hard. Harry would never hurt Lara! But then...they might think he would.

Harry wasn't sure how long they had been in the woods but he could feel himself growing more tired, could sense the change in temperature and light since he first awoke. He realised that if he was to do something, now was the time to do it. Now, before, he grew too exhausted, before all the light drained away and left him them in the dark.

He suddenly realised with a fair amount of shock that he had seriously been considering the covering-up of Lara's death. No, not the covering-up of an innocent crash. He had been considering leaving Lara, an alive, unconscious but alive Lara nevertheless, in a car prone to explosion, to cover-up the fact that he may have been responsible for the crash.

Harry felt sickened. How could he even have thought about that, let alone began to form plans! Thinking about leaving Lara in the car, so the 'evidence' could disappear reminded him once again that he was sitting in a car, that had maybe lasted an afternoon, but could not remain intact much longer.

The throbbing in Harry's leg was growing steadily worse, and he grimaced with pain as he heaved himself upwards and onto the seat which Lara's legs were spread across. The door by Lara's head wouldn't open, and neither would the driver's door, but how about the one next to him now?

Determined, Harry pushed an arm forward, and clutched onto the metal clasp that controlled the function of the door. He grabbed it and pulled. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still no reaction. Harry began to panic. This was his own fault. He just couldn't believe that he had been sitting here, wasting time, allowing Lara to slip further and further away from consciousness, as he pondered about leaving her to die. What an idiot he was! What a complete an utter moron! How dare he even suggest he cared about Lara when he had not yet tried everything in this power to help her!

Harry pulled at the clutch again, frustrated. The door remained closed. His right leg, the good leg, kicked at the door, to no avail. He hoped for the sake of his own life, and Lara's, that the door in the front of the car would open. The stench of petrol was so strong, yet he had blocked it out completely these past, what, minutes, hours? Even if it was only minutes, he still couldn't believe he had let even a single minute go by where he had neglected the helping of Lara. He couldn't believe nobody had smelt the fuel, and come to help yet.

Ignoring the sharp pain in his leg, Harry somehow climbed back into the front of the car. Lara was so perfect, so beautiful, so amazing. He had to save her! How dare he abandon her even if the alternative was certain death to himself.

This was his last chance. If this door didn't work, they were destined to death. Dusk was growing quickly in the woods and Harry needed to act quickly. If the door wouldn't open, there was always the smashed windscreen, but then, that was so dangerous. Only about half of it was missing, and although he might be able to climb out, he couldn't bear to think of hurting Lara more, of cutting through her skin with glass, of piercing her body and scarring her! It was too horrible a thought. He supposed he could always leave; go find help, but where? He had no idea where they were. Surely if there was anybody living nearby they would have heard the crash, smelt the petrol, and come by now. And even if he did find somebody, how would he lead them back to the car, in the dark? What, what if something happened whilst he was gone? Something which would take Lara from him, vanish her away while he couldn't even say goodbye?

In the back of the car, Lara moaned softly, in pain. Harry's ears picked up the noise immediately and he hurriedly clambered back, towards her.

"Lara!"

Lara's breathing was fast and raspy. Harry began to stroke her hair, "Lara, it's me, Harry. Lara, you're alright, don't worry. I'm going to get you out of here!"

Lara's eyelids flickered and closed again. Harry watched her intently. "Lara, Lara, just open your eyes for me Lara. Stay awake for me now Lara. Please, Lara, just open your eyes," he coaxed, brushing her cheek with his hand.

"Harry?" Lara's whisper was barely audible but Harry was concentrating so hard he would have heard her sigh.

"Yes? Yes, Lara? I'm here, you don't need to worry, it's going to be okay." Harry answered caringly.

Lara's eyelids flickered up briefly, and Harry caught a glimpse of her green eyes, clouded with pain and confusion. His heart tore at the thought of Lara's suffering and as he tenderly stroked her he wished he could take it for himself.

"Lara, you're going to be okay, I promise. Just stay awake, okay? Don't sleep Lara. Please, open your eyes again Lara. Come on, open your eyes."

"I'm cold Harry," Lara whispered, silvery veils of air leaving her mouth as she talked. Her face had a curious tint of blue and Harry felt terrible that he hadn't noticed this before. He pulled off his jacket quickly, ignoring his own pain, and wrapped it gingerly around Lara, careful of the broken arm.

"There, there. You're going to be okay," Harry promised, trying to hide his tears in case Lara should look up again. "Better now?" He took her hand and started to rub it, hoping to share his heat with her.

Lara did not speak again and Harry began to worry, more anxiously than previously. He could hear her breathing, and she cried out occasionally, but did not have the strength to talk. She didn't question where they were, or what was happening, and the only time she did speak again was when Harry carefully unclasped his hand from hers' to try the front door again. When he did this, Lara called out, "Harry!" in pain, and it wrenched his heart to tell her he just needed to try the door, even though he knew it was for the best.

In the front of the car again, and aware that every second left Lara in more pain, Harry grasped hold of the door clasp and prayed to a god he had never believed in that this would work. To his utter joy, the door bounced easily open. A pool of dark petrol was below him and Harry nearly slipped as he exited the car.

He wasn't going to leave her, of course not. He just had to get her clear of the car, that was his first priority, and then he would work on his second. He actually guessed that the crash hadn't been more than a couple of hours ago, but in the woods, with the shade of the trees, the sunlight disappeared faster.

Harry forced his leg to move and grabbed hold of the back door. He started to pull, to wrench the door open, but he just couldn't force it to open. Outside the car, broken glass littered the ground and he was glad that there was less inside. He realised that although Lara was a dot to dot of broken glass, he hadn't really been affected at all, even in all his moving about.

"Lara!" Harry cried as he heard her moans get louder. "Lara! I'm, I'm still here, I'm going to get you out!"

Carefully avoiding the petrol, Harry made his way to the boot. It was hanging open, probably forced that way by the strength of the crash. Painfully, he shoved it up, higher. Inside, he knew, would be some tools. Perhaps tools that could aid the forcing of the door.

Lara whimpered in pain. Her chest hurt whenever she breathed in and she felt as though some giant needle were sticking through her heart. She tried not to concentrate on the pain, dull aches in some places, sharp and intense in others. Suddenly a gust of wind hit her, and she was made even more aware of her coldness. She was numb and could not feel Harry's hands as he roughly grabbed her and pulled. And she was sinking back into unconsciousness as the car exploded.