A/N: Once more, I feel the need to thank all of you for the lovely reviews. The ones that are especially detailed totally make my day. It's true inspiration for a writer to see specific moments that were moving or appreciated. I love you all!

CHAPTER 14

He hated hospitals. He always had, and he always would. Ever since he was eight years old and was admitted for an appendectomy, he had developed a significant albeit irrational phobia. The overwhelming stench of rubbing alcohol and latex gloves was enough to perpetuate his anxiety and give anyone a migraine. And the fact that his head had been pounding since he had awoken was no help in mitigating that.

The pain medication pumping into his IV had succeeded in numbing some of the more extreme pain, like the fracture in his leg, but somehow the pressure had not quite dissipated from his skull. He was vaguely aware that the tension was likely derived from his immense personal discomfort more than any injuries sustained the night before.

"How long will I have to be here?" he asked the day nurse, Sophie, as she began working to replace the bandage on his head. She offered a sympathetic smile in response.

"You've been recovering quite quickly," she offered. "You're lucky that you weren't hurt worse."

"I know," he agreed, somewhat impatiently. "But I want to go home."

"I understand," she began, lowering her eyes from her task on his forehead to meet his gaze. "Do you have any family coming to visit today?"

"No," Holmes stated definitively. "I don't have any family in the area. My dad lives in Georgia, and my mom lives in Cali."

She pursed her lips sympathetically. "Have you called them?"

"Hell no." Holmes had said it before he had really thought it through, and found himself quickly embarrassed. "Sorry. I mean…they worry too much. It's really not necessary to tell them about this."

Sophie chuckled a bit in response. Evidently his French had not offended her in the slightest.

"Can you tell me anything about how Spencer Hastings is doing?" he ventured. He had tried to ask Dr. Tate when he had come to check on him an hour or so ago, and had gotten nothing by way of useful information.

"I'm sorry," Sophie began. "Medical records are private except to family."

"Which is why I haven't had any visitors," Holmes grumbled irritably. "I already know my friends are here. And they're not getting any updates. They're probably worried."

Sophie finished up with his bandage, stepping back to admire her handiwork as she considered her formulation of a response. She deposited the old, blood-stained bandage and her gloves in the trash receptacle and began to wash her hands. "I'll see what I can do," she said at last.

"Thank you," he sighed, relieved. He settled back on his pillow, feeling substantially more at ease. "And if you could pull some strings with getting me home today, I wouldn't complain."

Sophie laughed again. "I have to say, Derek, you've been my most stubborn patient today." She reached out to squeeze his shoulder comfortingly. "I'll speak with Dr. Tate and see what his opinion is."

"Thanks."

"You press the buzzer if you need anything, all right? I'll be back in a couple hours to give you your next set of meds." With that, she headed for the door and was gone to finish her rounds. Holmes was alone with his displeasure once more.

He fumbled at his bedside for the wired remote. He had to admit, it was quite a handy invention. At home, locating the remote was a constant battle. Cavanaugh had a bad habit of wandering into various rooms with it – one time leaving it in the fridge for a week – and Hanna always seemed to lose it in the depths of the couch cushions. With it attached to his hospital bed, it was not only impossible to lose, but also impossible to drop. Both benefits were much appreciated, for with his leg slung up as it was, his mobility was rather limited.

Just as he began to channel surf, he heard the door to his room click open.

"That was fast," he chuckled, turning his head to address Sophie. Only, it was not Sophie this time.

"Hey, son. I got here as fast as I could. I'm sorry it took so long."

"Dad?" Holmes demanded breathlessly. Surely the pain medication was kicking in now and he was delirious. He rubbed a hand over his eyes quickly to gauge his sense of reality. But the mirage did not disappear, and guilt began to overwhelm him. "Dad…you didn't have to come all the way up here…I'm fine."

"Don't be an idiot, Derek," Jared said with a wry smile, approaching his bedside. "Where else would I be?"

Holmes was baffled. "I mean – how did you even know? Who called you?"

"Your friend Toby called me first…but the call from the hospital came shortly after."

Holmes was at a loss for words, but was feeling a swell of appreciation for his dad's presence. "Thanks for coming," he said at last. He hoped his dad understood just how grateful he was.

As Jared laid a hand on Holmes's shoulder, his eyes roved his son's injuries. "You look good…I mean, considering."

Holmes rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "This is probably a step-up, actually. At least I look like I have a dangerous edge now. And I'll have loads of new scars to show the ladies."

Jared chuckled deeply, pulling up a chair to Holmes's bedside. "I thought there was only one girl you were trying to impress these days?" He cocked a playful eyebrow at his son, studying his face for additional details.

If Holmes were the blushing type, he would have assuredly given himself away. "Yeah well," he muttered. "I'm not sure that's gonna end up going anywhere, Dad."

"Oh?"

Holmes sighed heavily, finding the task of straightening his blankets to be a sudden priority. "Do we have to talk about this right now?" he asked innocently. "My head is already racing."

"I understand," Jared agreed sympathetically. "But just so you know, she's here to visit you."

Holmes whipped his head towards his father with such fervor that jolts of pain shot through his body. Perhaps sudden movements weren't the best idea. He tried his best to neglect the soreness that he had caused. "You saw Hanna? She's here?"

"She is," Jared confirmed. "I saw her in the lobby with Toby."

"Yeah," Holmes began distantly. "I don't think they're allowed in. Family only rules."

Jared grinned widely, showing practically all of his teeth in the process. "Now, Derek. You know your father doesn't play well by the rules."

"Dad…" Holmes began with cautious impatience, rolling his eyes. His dad had never been one to take unwanted news lying down, and often embarrassed himself and the entire family with speaking his mind a bit too brashly. "What did you do?"

"You act like I robbed a bank," Jared scoffed, amused. "All I did was have a very straight-forward, very civil talk with the nurse out front. Mr. Cavanaugh and Hanna are right outside the door. Waiting to come in, if it's all right with you."

Holmes's heart leapt into his throat. A stinging in the corners of his eyes threatened to overtake him as he thought about the loyalty of his friends waiting to hear about him for most of the morning. Cavanaugh – his regular Old Faithful. He never had to doubt whether or not he had his back.

But his immediate thought was how he had been craving Hanna's company, and the foolish urge to tell her about all of the things that flashed through his head before he lost consciousness in the accident. He wanted to tell her how much he appreciated her. How he had been selfish to put any pressure on her. How he just couldn't bear the thought of not having her in his life, whether it be as friends or as more. His heart ached unmistakably for her presence.

"Do you want me to bring them in?" Jared asked.

"Yeah," Holmes said, perhaps with a little bit too much enthusiasm. His dad was stifling a chuckle at his excitement. Holmes felt suddenly guilty for being so quick to dismiss his father, and worked quickly to remedy his previous statement. "I mean…well…yeah, I want to see them…but we haven't had a chance to even catch up yet."

"Nah," Jared stated bluntly with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's not as though we never talk. Our Sunday conversations keep me pretty up to date. Besides, I'll be in town for little while. Make sure you're back on your feet."

"Really?" Holmes said, his heart swelling with gratitude. The idea of his father being close-by was thrilling. He was beginning to realize how much he had really missed him. He tended to visit briefly for holidays since he had been stationed in Michigan, but hadn't otherwise spent ordinary time with him in almost two years. "Thanks, Dad."

"It's my job." With that, Jared stood up from his chair and made his way to the door. "One at a time, or do you want them both?"

"Both – both, of course," Holmes sputtered. They were two out of the three faces he had yearned to see all morning, and he was not about to take either of them for granted.

"All right, son. I'll be back in a bit, all right?"

"Okay."

The door clicked shut once more, leaving Holmes in temporary solitude. He felt suddenly foolish about how he must look. It was not out of vanity, but out of pride. He had always been the type to keep his injuries at bay independently, and was spiteful that these were ones he could not hide. He had no use of his left leg at the moment, with it slung up towards the ceiling – and the bandage over his temple was obscuring half of the vision in his left eye. He hated for anyone to see him this way, and found himself wishing that he were in better shape for visitors.

So when Hanna and Cavanaugh entered through his hospital room door, he was feeling far too vulnerable for his comfort. Instead of thinking about it too much, he offered a brave smile for both of them.

"Hey, handsome," Toby quipped jokingly, approaching Holmes's bedside. He looked as though he had not slept in days…and Holmes was nearly positive that he probably hadn't. He was assuredly up all morning worried about Spencer. He assessed Holmes's leg sling briefly. "I'm digging the set-up you have here."

"Yeah, super comfortable," Holmes retorted laughingly. "I figure I'll get one installed when I get home, too."

His eyes flickered to Hanna, who was standing uncertainly near the door. Her eyes were puffy, indicating that she had been crying. He had the distinct urge to reach out to her, but focused foremost on the task at hand.

"How's Spencer doing?"

Toby nodded. "She's good. Worried about you."

Holmes sighed dejectedly. "Yeah. Of course she is," he stated, rolling his eyes. "Next time you see her, let her know I'm fine. The only person she needs to worry about his herself."

Toby chuckled darkly. "Two peas in a pod. My two favorite martyrs."

Holmes pulled a face, but understood his point. He wanted both of them to concentrate on getting themselves better.

Hanna was slowly approaching his bedside now. He had tried to divert his gaze, so as to make her transition less awkward, but was having a hell of a time looking away. He could smell her mango hand lotion from five feet away, and his pulse raced involuntarily.

Toby seemed to be akin to the dynamic shift. He looked from Hanna to Holmes knowingly, beginning to back up towards the door. "All right…well I promised Spencer I'd let her know how you were doing," he began with amateur nonchalance. Holmes could have given him a swift kick in the pants for the anvil-sized hints he was dropping all over the room.

"All right," Holmes agreed through gritted teeth, pointedly staring at Toby. "Tell her I'm glad she's okay."

"Will do," Toby stated, practically tearing out of the room and into the hallway before Holmes could reply again.

Well, this was it. He and Hanna were alone now.

She was cautiously approaching his bedside, as if testing the waters by wading into the shallow end of the pool first. She carefully studied his injuries as she took a hesitant seat in the chair. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

"Better, now." He didn't necessarily mean to say it, but she could interpret it as she liked. He opened his hand purposefully to her. She accepted it, intertwining her fingers through his.

"I was really worried," she began slowly. She was not meeting his eyes. "When Toby told me…there were just so many things in my head, all at once."

He squeezed affectionately. "Like what?"

She took a deep breath, evidently garnishing the entirety of her focus. "Like bailing Toby out of jail together. Trying to break into Cody's restaurant. The way you always make fun of my cooking." Both chuckled softly at this.

"You do make some pretty rancid macaroni and cheese," he quipped.

She glared at him. It was the first time she looked him in the eyes since she had entered the room. "Shut up."

"I've told you a million times – you can't over-boil your noodles," Holmes continued lightheartedly. She rolled her eyes and shook her head dismissively.

"Anyway," she proceeded, reigning in her amusement. "I thought about all of the things we've been through together. All of the things I've been too afraid to think about until now."

He brushed the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb, patiently waiting for her to continue.

"It's not one-sided, you know. It never has been." She took a deep, shuddering breath, laughing quietly as she did so. "I mean, for god's sake, Spencer made me write out a pros and cons list about starting a relationship with you."

He couldn't lie – his curiosity was piqued. "What did it say?"

She blushed in reply. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Well. He tried.

"But…the thought of you…of you being here," she said darkly, gesturing to the hospital room. "It scared me to death."

He wasn't quite sure where she was going with this. But he did not want to interrupt her thought process by asking questions.

"I guess…it's that whole thing about you never know what you have until it's gone. But I got lucky – you're not gone. You're still here." A single tear was trickling down her delicate cheekbone. Before he even thought about it, he was reaching out to brush it away. He allowed his hand to linger on the side of her face for a moment, combing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"And…and…" she stammered, attempting to hold her tears in. "I don't know what I would do if you were out of my life. I need you. More than I've ever needed anyone, ever."

His heart broke to see her in such pain. He gently pulled her head towards him, cradling her into his chest. "It's okay," he comforted softly, running his hands through her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

She sniffled into his hospital gown, snaking one arm across his shoulder to hold on more tightly. He breathed in her scent, allowing the peaceful moment to marinade.

"I have a really hard time saying this," she murmured into him, rolling her face slightly so that she could look at him. He craned his neck back slightly to meet her gaze.

"Saying what?"

She smiled slightly then, reaching out to trace her fingertips across the undamaged part of his brow. She seemed to be gearing up for something earth-shattering. Fantastic. This is where it all ended. Let's just be friends. The idea of losing you made me realize that your friendship is so important to me. Blah blah blah. Not that a point like that was irrelevant for the moment, but Holmes wasn't ready to give up just yet.

But then, the words she uttered were quite different than the scenario playing shamelessly in his head. "I love you."

Well, that was unexpected. It took him several times of replaying the phrase silently to be sure that he had heard it correctly. The last thing he needed was to reply inappropriately, and piss her off all over again.

"You don't have to say that because of where we are," he murmured. "What happened was scary…but I don't want you to jump into saying it because it feels right to do, right this second."

She shook her head impatiently. "No. It's not just right now. It's been sitting on the tip of my tongue for days. There was just too much holding me back…" She brushed her thumb over his bottom lip, and he felt an involuntary shiver go through his veins.

"I love you," he replied, even though he had said it before. "I tried fighting it, too. It doesn't go away."

She laughed a little, a few more silent tears escaping from beneath her eyelids. He cleared them for her once more. "As much as I hate it when you cry, you look so beautiful when you're vulnerable like this."

He wasn't quite sure what he said to elicit the reaction he gained, but her lips were on his in an instant. What was at first fierce quickly transitioned to slow and gentle, for he was sure she was remembering his condition. She wanted to be careful. He tangled his fingers into her hair, distantly aware of the moisture on his cheeks from her tears. When he pulled away after only a moment, she was smiling. It was their third kiss, but it might as well have been their first. This one did not end with awkward feelings or uncertainty. It was an ordinary kiss between two people who loved each other. A normal kiss that a couple would share.

Hanna's head returned to its rightful spot on his shoulder, and she began tracing indiscriminate shapes with her fingertips on his neck. He wasn't sure how long they stayed like this before he drifted back to sleep, but the dreams that followed were the most peaceful he had had in weeks.