Right so first things first I'd like to say a huge thank you to all of you who were kind enough to leave a review on the last chapter. Given how nervous I was about posting it, it really did mean a lot :) So with that in mind this chapter is dedicated to Becki, Claire, Pishta Hamster, Cambridgegirl, Ithilya and all those whose names I'm far too tired to remember (its been a seriously long night at work) I hope you enjoy this chapter...try not to get too depressed. Brighter days are ahead just not for a while :D

Three days later

"Her stats are normal and she's responsive. Don't be scared of the tube in her chest, its still there from the surgery but its just a precaution should we need to put her back on a drip," the nurse smiled gently at Pete as she opened the door for him and gestured for him to walk through it. "Other than that she's a little drowsy from the meds she's on but your wife is very lucky, Mr. Dunham."

"I know," Pete nodded, thinking of Lara once again and feeling sick knowing that as bad as he felt now, he would have killed himself had Allie met the same fate.

"Has anyone spoken to her?" he cleared his throat. "Y'know what happened with…about the accident?"

"Not yet," the nurse looked at him sadly. "We assumed that you might want to…"

"Yeah," Pete nodded, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. "Yeah, cheers,"

The woman nodded and left him outside Allie's door where upon peering through the blinds Pete could see her lying on motionlessly, her head angled towards the window, her fingers clenching the bars of the bed gently.

Taking a deep breath, Pete adjusted the bunch of flowers he was holding and pushed the door open, cringing as it squeaked a little too loud.

Slowly, Allie turned her head and looked at him in confusion as though she wasn't sure who he was for a second. Her face was miraculously not bruised but a rather impressive cut which ran from her left temple down to her cheek bone had caused her face to swell.

Her left foot was in a bandage and a tube protruded from her chest from her operation two days ago to re-inflate her lung. Her hair was still matted with blood as it fanned out on the pillow, her lips chapped and sore looking from wearing an oxygen mask for too long.

"Hi," she whispered through the mask, her voice coming out croaky and distinctly un-Allie-like.

"Alright gorgeous," Pete smiled at her, coming over to the bed where he leant down and carefully brushed his lips over her forehead, revelling in the sensation for a few seconds more than necessary.

"I got you these," he told her somewhat bashfully as he placed the flowers on the bedside table and caught her weak smile in return. "How's my girl?"

"Sore," she whispered, her eyes darting down to the tube which Pete himself was having a hard time looking at.

"I know baby," he picked up her hand and kissed it, staring at her wedding band and not for the first time in three days saying a silent prayer of thanks to whoever the fuck was up there.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment and Pete continued to stare down at her hand, not wanting the conversation to start up again. Because when it did, he knew he'd have to tell her what had happened.

He'd have to tell her the reason that Harry wasn't here was because he'd disappeared off of the face of the earth after the doctors had told him Lara was dead. He'd have to tell her that the reason he looked so tired was because he couldn't sleep down the hall from her room, knowing that he was never going to see her padding down the hall in her pyjamas again, never going to hear her laugh when she playfully slapped his arse and stole his coffee from him.

He'd have to look his wife in the eye and tell her that her best friend, let's face it her sister…was dead.

"How are…" Allie wheezed slightly and Pete tensed up, wanting to help her but unsure of what to do. "Alex and Poppy…" she breathed out.

"They're fine, babe," Pete told her, rubbing his hand up her arm and frowning at the dark bruises from where they had taken blood. "Poppy's been milkin' 'er war wound for all its worth and as for mini man," he rolled his eyes. "As long as he's got food, he's happy as you like,"

Allie smiled and nodded tiredly, her eyes closing for a short moment before they opened again and met his.

"Where's everybody else? Where's Harry and Lara?" she swallowed hard and winced at the pain.

For whatever reason Pete's face fell upon hearing those words and instantly she felt her heart start to beat faster.

"Pete?"

"I should 'ave told you before," he whispered, shaking his head. "But I didn't know how…baby…I…"

"Tell me what?" Allie demanded in a whisper, her vocal chords apparently unwilling to stretch to any other volume.

"Do you remember anything?" Pete met her eyes and spoke softly. "About the accident?"

"No…" Allie shook her head, her voice cracking. "Why?"

Pete closed his eyes and took in a deep, shuddering breath, his throat contracting as he licked his dry lips and prepared to force the words from his mouth.

"Lara was…" he paused. "Lara was a lot worse than they first thought, they had to take 'er down to surgery and she lost a lot of blood…"

"So…" Allie frowned at him. "Is she still here?"

Pete looked at her, his eyes slowly lifting up to meet hers and in that second, she knew.

"Babe, they did everything they could for 'er," Pete's voice trembled with emotion as he saw her eyes widen behind the oxygen mask. "They tried so hard…but they couldn't…" he swallowed hard, knowing that for his sanity and hers he needed to say the words out loud. "Allie, she died."

The room fell silent, the hum of the air conditioning and the gentle lull of the traffic on the streets below creating a faint symphony as the pair stared at each other.

"When?"

Allie's voice was so quiet that Pete almost missed it.

"When did she…?"

"About an hour after they brought you in," he told her. "I was with her when…"

He shook his head and stared down at their hands, his breath coming out in harsh, painful pants as he recalled the moment in which her body had shaken, her cold hand tightening slightly on his before going slack.

"I'm tired," Allie told him, her voice taking on a firmness that he had not expected in that moment.

"What?" he brushed some hair away from her forehead. "Baby, it's ok to be upset…"

"I'm not," she shook her head, her eyes wide as she blinked back the tears and met his gaze. "I'm just really tired so could you maybe come back later?"

Pete looked at her in confusion, the slight trembling of her hand in his the only telltale sign that she was hanging onto her sanity by a thread.

"Pete, please?" she whispered again, her breath coming out in bursts, making her wince as the tube in her chest rubbed against her skin.

"Alright," he told her, standing up and leaning over to kiss her forehead.

Allie turned slightly so that he only caught her temple and went back to staring out of the window. Knowing how hard that must have been for her to hear, Pete tried not to feel hurt as he squeezed her hand gently.

"I'll be back a bit later, yeah? I can bring Poppy if you like," he told her.

"Yeah," she answered, her voice high and strained with emotion. "I'll see you then,"

She focused her gaze on the window, her eyes tracing the lines of the bare willow tree outside, its branches thin and icy, stretching towards the sky as though asking for help.

Allie waited for the door to close and then with great care, curled herself into a ball and as she clung to the metal bars of the bed, she screamed in agony, weeping as hard as she could without getting sick. It only took a second for the nurses to come in and sedate her, rolling her onto her back as she sobbed still, pressing the needle deep into her arm and letting the cold fluid flood through her veins, lulling her into an artificial sleep which did nothing to stop the tears.

It was only when her eyes finally drifted shut that Pete let his hand slide down the glass as though trying to feel her, to reach out to her and with a sob of his own, he turned and walked numbly back down the hall.

Pete jumped from where he was sat at the breakfast counter in the kitchen, his head resting on top of his folded arms as a loud bang brought him back to his senses.

"Its hot buttered rum," Richard Harding told him with a small smile as he slid into the stool across from his son in law. "While I was at law school, I worked in a bar. My boss used to make me get him those when he was doing a night shift, claimed it soothed the soul,"

Pete smirked briefly and took a sip, almost spitting it out as the strength of it hit him.

"Fuck me, no wonder," he coughed. "You'd 'ave to 'ave a liver of steel not to get soothed by that,"

Richard laughed and took a sip of his own, sighing contentedly as he returned the mug to the table top and met the blue eyed man's gaze.

"You never told me what happened at the hospital," he murmured.

"Nothin'," Pete shrugged. "She wouldn't even look at me…I could see she was tryna hold it together y'know but she…" he felt himself getting frustrated and sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Fuck, I don't know what to do,"

"There's nothing you can do, Pete," Richard told him. "Lara was…"

The old man's eyes widened and Pete knew he was shocked by the sound of her name on his lips. In the three days that had passed since the accident, Lara's name had become something of a taboo. Everyone wanted so badly to talk about her, yet no one wanted to be the first person to try for fear of everyone else's reaction.

"Before you came along, Lara was the only other person I had seen Allie be herself with," Richard shrugged. "I know that sounds ridiculous but…Lara was the only person other than you that I trusted to take care of Allie. To be there for her and to love her as much as I did…and now…."

And now that's gone forever, both men thought, though neither dared mutter it aloud.

"Daddy?"

Pete turned and pasted a smile on his face when he saw Poppy hobbling into the room, the crutches the hospital had given her now decorated with stickers and glitter paint courtesy of Matt, Dave and Swill who had offered to keep her occupied for the afternoon.

"Ay, ay," Pete sniffed, clearing his eyes of any tears before looking at her again. "There's my little soldier," he winked at her. "What're you doing out of bed?"

"I miss mummy," the blonde mumbled, staring down at her bandaged knee.

"She'll be home soon, beautiful," Richard told her, sliding off of his chair and kneeling down in front of his granddaughter. "And when she gets here, we'll have to make sure you look better so she doesn't get worried, won't we?"

"Grampy?" she asked, using her own little pet name for him.

"What, darling?" he smiled, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Why can mummy come home but Auntie Lara can't?"

Pete felt his spine turn cold and instantly his throat became tight again; he looked over at his daughter and saw Richard too had gone slightly rigid, his hands shaking as he smoothed back her hair.

"Remember what I told you about Auntie Lara?" he asked her.

"That she had to go away?" Poppy nodded.

Pete stood up and made his way over to her, sitting on the step and pulling her gently into his lap, his huge hands supporting her knee as she held onto him, snuggling into his chest just like she used to when she was a baby.

"See mummy and Auntie Lara got hurt," Pete told her, kissing the top of her head. "And sometimes when people get really badly hurt, it's better for them if they…" his voice cracked and Richard looked at him with tears in his own aged eyes. "If they go away,"

"Where do they go?" Poppy mumbled.

"The um…the angels come down from heaven, remember mummy told you about heaven?" Richard asked her.

"That's where Mouse went," she nodded, referring to her recently deceased fish.

"Yeah, well the angels come down from heaven and they hold your hand and they take you up there so you're not in pain anymore,"

Pete felt a tear slip out his eye as the old man continued talking and hated himself for it. "And once you're there you can 'ace all the ice cream and sweets you want…"

"Auntie Lara liked shoes," Poppy smiled at him. "She'll have lots of shoes,"

"Yeah," Pete half laughed, half sobbed. "Yeah she will,"

"I won't get to play with Auntie Lara anymore, will I?" Poppy asked, her bottom lip quivering.

"No, sweetheart," he shook his head.

"I miss her," she sobbed softly.

"I know, baby," Pete hugged her tighter. "But she wouldn't want you to cry, would she?"

Poppy shook her head but continued sobbing nonetheless. Pete wanted to tell her to stop, he wanted to remember whatever the hell it was that his mum had told him when his dad died, he wanted to tell her that everything would be ok.

But he couldn't. All he could bring himself to do in that moment was to bury his face in her soft hair and cry with her.

Natalie padded through the house, her sock clad feet thankfully not making any noise on the stairs as she followed the sound of the gentle knocking and came to a stop before the huge oak door.

Using all her strength to yank it open, she gasped seeing the visitor and suddenly found herself unaware of what to say.

"Most people start with 'hi, would you like to come in?'" Benjamin told her, his handsome face quirking into a hard to see smile through all the bruising.

"Shit, I'm sorry, of course," she mumbled, stepping aside and allowing him to limp through the door, his left arm held tightly across his chest by a sling, the redness of the stitches above his eyebrow making his skin seem even whiter.

"How's everything at Casa Del Dunham?" he asked, trying to be light-hearted and failing miserably.

"I'm guessing its seen better days," she snorted. "How are you?"

"Not bad," Benjamin nodded. "A bit sore but nothing a few Fosters and a night with a set of Swedish twins won't cure,"

Natalie laughed and instantly clapped her hand over her mouth, feeling bad for the outburst.

"And they said being the class clown would get be nowhere in life," he winked at her. "Where's Pete?"

"I-…"

As in on queue, the stairs creaked and Pete slowed down his descent, staring at his friend with a mixture of relief and pain.

"There you are," Benjamin smiled at him. "Jesus, gay or straight, they all flock to me, don't they?"

Pete smirked and jogged the rest of the way, pulling his mate into a hug, being careful not to touch his arm.

"Alright, brother?" Benjamin whispered in his ear as he clapped him on the back.

"I've been better," Pete whispered back, making him laugh.

"I'll uh, I'll go make some coffee or something," Natalie told them, not wanting to intrude for any longer than she already had.

"How's the wrist?" Pete asked, pulling back and gesturing to his arm.

"Not bad," Benjamin shrugged. "I mean don't get me wrong, I'm devastated that I'm in a no masturbation zone for the next month…"

Pete choked out a laugh and shook his head; only Benjamin.

"But other than that…" he looked at the blonde and his tone got lower. "How's Allie?"

"She's…" Pete sighed and trailed off. "Fuck, I 'ave no idea. I told her today about…"

Benjamin nodded and looked at the floor for a long moment, his blue eyes teeming with tears when he glanced back up.

"Brother, I'm so sorry," he breathed. "If there was anything I could have done…"

"Mate," Pete shook his head. "It wasn't your fault, alright? It wasn't anyone's fault. It was just a seriously fucked up accident, ok? If it 'adn't been you lot in the car, it would 'ave been someone else."

The tall Scotsman nodded but didn't say anything else.

"Ben," Pete snapped, his tone firm as he clasped his friends shoulder tightly. "This wasn't your fault, alright? There was nothing any of us could 'ave done,"

Their reverent silence was disrupted by a dreaded and all too familiar sound.

"Shit," Pete sighed.

"Little man's still playing up, eh?" Ben sniffed, wiping at his eyes quickly and bashfully.

"He misses Allie," Pete nodded. "I put one of 'er sweaters in the crib with him but he's 'avin' none of it,"

"He has a thing for playstation," Benjamin smiled. "Bring the little bugger down and stick him in front of FIFA 2008, he'll soon shut up. I'll go and check on the other minor and see if I can wrangle some dinner out of the little git as well."

Pete nodded and chuckled lightly before jogging up the stairs towards Alex's nursery.

His feet sunk into the plush carpet as they always did, his mind numb and black as he turned the corner, stopping only when an icy draft hit him.

Turning to his left he saw that Lara's bedroom door was open at the end of the hall; reluctantly, he moved down to it, sighing when he realised that the large balcony doors at the end of her bed were open allowing the rain to sweep in.

"Shit," he muttered, stepping inside and feeling a wave of nausea envelope him.

A jumper along with a few skirts still lay on the bed from where she had been deciding what to wear the other morning. Her iPod lay charging on her nightstand next to a glass of orange juice which still had her lipstick mark along the rim.

It was almost as though nothing had happened, the various items strewn about the room doing their best to coax Pete into believing that the last few days had been nothing but a bad dream and that everyone was fine.

Next to her vanity mirror was a notepad on which she had so elegantly scrawled 'Crap I need to get done before Monday'.

She had written of sending thank you notes for her presents, of taking Poppy shopping, of having a drinking session with Pete and Allie and of course going to The Zetland for new years day breakfast.

Pete's fingers trembled as they skimmed across the page, his brain more than aware that she was never going to get to do any of it.

Swallowing the faint taste of sick in his mouth, he practically ran over to the balcony doors and yanked them shut, tears stinging his eyes as he fled the room, making sure to shut the door tightly as he left for fear of needing to go in there again.

He wasn't sure he would survive it second time around.

"Still not hungry, eh darling?"

Allie looked up from the tray of food, the grilled chicken fillet and Mediterranean vegetables seemingly good fair for hospital food.

"I'll leave the ice cream, shall I?" the nurse smiled, nudging the small pot towards Allie as though she were some kind of child.

The blonde continued staring straight ahead, pretending not to hear the nurses sigh of frustration as she picked up the untouched tray and left the room, making no effort to be quiet.

The TV continued to hum at the end of the bed, offering her the same episode of Desperate Housewives she had seen yesterday whilst the pile of magazines Pete had brought her earlier sat untouched on the table next to the rapidly wilting flowers.

Gently peeling her gown back, Allie stared at the hole in her chest where the tube had been the skin around it bruised and sore. Her leg which had been crushed in the accident twitched painfully and she was forced to shift her position to alleviate some of the pressure on it.

"Fuck," she hissed as she moved to quickly, her chest heaving in agony.

Clinging to the edge of the bed, she gritted her teeth as she heard the door open again, unwilling to make any more small talk with the nurses.

"I'm fine," she keened out. "I just needed to move, I'm done now,"

"You don't look fine."

The voice made her spine run cold, her eyes widening behind the oxygen mask, her hands trembling as she rolled over slowly and pulled it back from her face so she could stare at the visitor properly.

Harry Harding looked much older than his 32 years at that moment; his handsome face was hidden by three days worth of facial hair, his eyes usually bright and alive now a dull, retired shade of emerald as they sought out hers.

"Harry," Allie breathed out, wincing as she sat up straighter in bed. "Where've you been? Pete said that no one could get hold of you…they were so worried that-…"

"I just had to get away for a bit," he interrupted her, his voice lacking any emotion whatsoever. "I just…I couldn't deal with being here,"

Allie nodded slowly, unsure of what to say to him next. I'm sorry wasn't enough. How are you didn't sound right because she already knew the answer. For a long moment she settled for staring at him, her breathing and heart monitor the only noises in the small room.

"They said it happened quickly," he almost whispered, his gaze trained on the floor. "They said she probably didn't feel it."

Allie looked at him in horror, not wanting to hear this, but unable to tell him to stop.

"Her neck snapped when they took her out of the car," he continued. "Her lungs were collapsed and her liver had ruptured to the point where she was bleeding out so badly that her stomach pretty much caved in on itself?"

"Harry…" Allie shook her head, her eyes stinging with tears. "Stop…"

"So with all of that," he carried on with a bitter laugh. "How can they look me in the eye and tell me she wasn't in pain? How can they tell me that she wasn't scared? That she didn't know she was dying?"

The last sentence came out as a scream and he swiped everything on the table at the end of her bed onto the floor, his face getting redder as he grew even angrier.

"Harry…" Allie sobbed, wanting to get out of bed and calm him down. "This isn't helping…they did everything they could for her."

"And how fucking easy is that for you to say?" her brother shouted. "You're still here! Pete gets to see you tomorrow if he wants, Poppy and Alex they get to hug you whenever they want…" he pointed to the door and met her eyes. "I don't ever get to see the woman I love again! And for what? Because you had to drag her into that stupid fucking shop,"

Allie gasped, ignoring the agony in her chest as she did so, meeting her brothers eyes and praying that she'd misunderstood him, that she was so upset by everything he'd just said that her mind was playing tricks on her.

"You…" she swallowed hard and stared at him. "You're blaming this on me?"

"If she'd been with me, she'd still be here!" Harry cried. "I shouldn't have left her with you, I should have come back and…" he gripped his hair so hard Allie half expected to hear it rip and fall out into his hands. "Why did she have to die?"

He sobbed and collapsed onto the floor, dropping his head down into his hands and sobbing so hard that he began to gag, his throat contracting painfully as he fought for the control he knew he didn't have.

"Harry, I know this isn't fair…" Allie cried quietly. "I want her back as well, I wish this…" her voice cracked and she shook her head. "I wish this wasn't happening, I wish that I could just blink and this would all be a dream but…"

"But its not," he finished for her, his voice bitter. "She shouldn't have died, Allie,"

"I know," she sobbed. "I know, Harry but…"

His next words stopped her, the air around her seeming to grow cold and thick as he stared at her for a long moment before pulling himself up and yanking the door open with enough force to shake the blinds which hung on it.

His footsteps faded down the hallway as he left her there, tears streaming silently down her face as she clutched the metal bars on the bed, her sobs catching in her throat as she stared into nothing, the faint echo of 'It should have been you' still drifting around her.

Told you it would get worse before it got better...and trust me, that's just the beginning! :D Please leave a review, I'm on the verge of becoming manic depressive whilst writing this story arc so leave a nice one to cheer me up! :D