This was requested by calm_katrin_ . As always, thanks for reading.

You slowly peeked in the kitchen, frowning as you saw Stephen hunched over and staring intently at his drink in hand. He didn't notice your presence in the doorway, his expression remaining that of stoic, cold, almost as if he has never felt any emotion before. You were nothing but worried about him. He had never been like that throughout all his career as a surgeon.

He would always be strong and sure of himself, you could see in his expression how he felt powerful and capable of doing whatever he wanted in life. It was as if though he was the best man in the world as a surgeon. Nothing could ever get in his way.

But now... It seemed as though he was another person. The Stephen that you knew had died in that accident, and what was now left was a shell of him.

When you saw Stephen been wheeled in the hospital, his face swelled up and bleeding. His hands were wrapped up, and there was no doubt there was a lot of damage done seeing blood soaking the cloth. You had to take a moment to stop as you stared in horror.

He was barely conscious, and he had to be immediately operated. It was not certain what would happen to his hands, or so his doctor told you. You would usually go in every surgery Stephen was on.

But this time you couldn't bare to be in this one. You never thought Stephen would be in that position. Roles had been exchanged and you knew he felt miserable and confused as to what was happening.

After the surgery, you had stayed by his side all the time, waiting anxiously to wake up. Doctors said there was a chance of him not waking up, but you knew he wouldn't give up just yet. Three days and nights went by, and you wouldn't leave his side by nothing. You would spend your time talking to him, hoping that he would open those captivating gray eyes once again.

You weren't prepared at all for his reaction when he woke up. You had cried tears of joy as you watched him crack open his eyes slowly, his gray orbs darting around the room as he registered what was going on. He kept quiet throughout, not meeting your gaze not once; even though he could clearly hear what you were telling him.

A big frown formed on your face as soon as he realized the state his hands were in. A tense silence remained on the room as he stared in horror at his bandaged hands, his eyes as wide as platters as he turned towards you for the first time, his eyes holding a dark color. Of course he would be angry, his hands were of extremely importance to him.

And that is when you realize perhaps they were more important than you.

He demanded to know what in the world happened to his hands, he practically was screaming at you as you never said a thing and stayed quiet; your eyes fixed on the floor as you avoided to meet his gaze.

Before matters got worse for a nurse walk in and figure out the reason to the loud shouting, you explained to him what had been done. What the doctors did to his hands to save them.

"This was not the right thing to do! My hands... My hands are practically useless with this! How do you expect me to work again hmm?! How do you expect me to be a surgeon when I can't even feel my hands (Y/N)?!" He spat at you with venom, his breathing coming out in short ragged breaths.

He was practically fumming from anger, and it wasn't a nice thing to experience. You yet stayed silent, being too much at a loss of words to reply to those questions you didn't even know the answer to. Seeing this from you, he kicked you out of his room without hesitation.

You immediately stood up, heading to the door with your head hung low in defeat. You somehow felt all of this was your fault. You weren't able to help him and now probably he hated you.

"I could've done better at this! If only I was the one in charge of surgey, I would've saved my hands." Was the last thing you heard coming from his mouth as you left the hospital room, taking a seat in the waiting room with your mind having zoned out.

Honestly, it didn't get any better after that. The time came where he was discharged of the hospital and allowed to go home. You had forgiven him in secret for his angry outburst back at the hospital. You completely understood how he felt, and you knew the following months would be very difficult for him to go on.

As you both arrived to his apartment, you had offered him nicely help to settle back down. He merely grunted in response, practically dismissing you as he went towards his room and locked himself for the rest of the day. That night you chose to sleep on the couch to give him some space to think and to be by himself.

As the sun set, and the sky filled with the beauty of stars; you couldn't help but always ask yourself the same two questions that had been roaming your mind ever since he woke up. Where was his true self? Is he ever going to go back to who he was? Your night was restless, your mind full of worry and thoughts about Stephen. He may not notice ever, but you truly cared and loved him for who he was, no matter what happened to him. Even though he had become rude and reserved, you would stay by his side. You would help him heal his wounds, hoping that one day he would come back and do what he loved the most.

For the man you had fallen for. (I totally didn't write 'Khan' by accident instead of 'man' xD Now now, I don't intend to break the mood. Go back to reading now)

Several weeks went by, and he had overcome that phase were he would spend his days locked up in his room, laying on his back on his disarrayed bed, staring at the ceiling for hours. You sometimes wondered what was going in that head of his.

He was now in the never ending search phase. Not only he had come out of his room, his room still messy but at least some progress was made. He ate breakfast, made a cup of coffee and sat down in front of his tablet, starting his research in solutions for his hands. At first you thought he was back to being himself, but you knew you had celebrated too soon as he yet again ignored your presence, his mind now fixed in one mission.

Fixing his god damn hands.

You would constantly be around him, watching as he went from an enthusiastic attitude as he was almost close to finding a solution to a pessimist and angry attitude. He had begged for an arrangement to what could be his salvation, speaking to a doctor in skype as he tried to write his name with a pencil in a paper. You thought his writing wasn't bad at all. It majorly looked crooked and odd from his hand shaking when he tried to hold things. As he yet failed to get admitted in a specialized hospital, since he practically had used his money in other solutions that ended up failing, he was about to break into an angry fit, almost throwing the tablet out the window in anger.

You gently set a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from proceeding to break down as you made him look at you for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. "There will be a solution Stephen. Failing many times in finding a cure for your hands doesn't mean something won't come up ever. You are strong, and we both know that you are. Don't let the frustration of not finding an immediate solution bring you down and keep you from continuing your search."

He finally met your eyes, his anger immediately melting away as he hugged you tightly as if scared of loosing his mind if he let go of you. You both stayed in a comfortable silent, the both of you enjoying being in each others arms. Time went by slowly, and Stephen felt as though everything was alright and there was going to be a way to get through. There was yet a door to find that would lead him to victory.

You were right, he couldn't give up just yet. And even though the physical therapies weren't working much, small progress was made each time he went to his appointments.

It was hard to describe how happy and relieved you felt to see him finding courage into going to his physical therapies and not giving up just yet. It seemed things were getting better, and what were before stormy and gloomy days were becoming sunny and happy days. You could finally see a tiny glimpse of the real him trying to surface once again. There was hope. Hope is what kept the both of you going. Hope is what would help Stephen get out of bed everyday.

But once again, you spoke to soon. Those sunny days soon became dark and stormy once again. Months had gone by and that hope Stephen felt had turned into desperation and anger once again. Not only he locked himself once again in his room. He started to ignore you once again and this time he got into a habit you never thought he would.

He had started drinking. At first he would merely drink a bottle a day, which you considered alright, though you weren't comfortable with the topic of drinking. It just made you uneasy. A single bottle of beer became two... then three. There was a point reached where not even beer could drown out his thoughts. He had gone from beer to wine. From wine to finally end with whiskey. The apartment was a mess, bottles scattered around every single room.

You were worried of course. You tried to make him relaize drinking was not the answer to drown out his problems. You had stayed outside his locked door for several hours, knocking every now and then to see if he would answer this time. The seventh time you knocked, the door opened to an angry looking Stephen, holding a bottle in his hand. His hair had grown considerably, reaching his shoulders and sticking out at random places from laying too much in bed. His beard had grown too, his eyes were bloodshot red and dark bags were below his eyes; making him look like a total mess.

Before any words could come out of his mouth, you were forcely pushed back. You stumbled backwards, falling on your butt as you looked up at him with wide eyes. "Keep yourself from my fucking room" He hissed with anger, walking back in and slamming the door behind him.

Tha is how you ended up merely peeking in the kitchen silently, watching as he drank yet more alcohol, his mind too clouded with alcohol to notice that you had been standing there for about twenty minutes, merely observing him from a distance. You were not proud to say you had become somewhat scared of him, but you just couldn't help yourself to fear that he would one day hit you.

That night you remained awake, sitting in the couch with a blanket wrapped around yourself tightly as you heard Stephen's sobs coming from his room. You hadn't left him, and you wouldn't ever. Everything going on was screaming the opposite, but you promised yourself and for Stephen that you wouldn't leave him.

You closed your eyes tightly, your heart breaking as you heard his sorrowful sobs. You covered your ears to try to block the sound away, but your mind was haunted by those heartbreaking sounds. That night for the first time in long you decided to enter his room. You pulled the blanket off, hurrying to his room with quick yet silent steps, your hand gripling the doorknob as you opened the door; making your way towards him as you enveloped him in a tight hug. He was defenitely surprised by the sudden action, his eyes softening as he heard you assuring and gentle words towards him; almost making him cry at how supportive you were towards him.

But that faded away as a cold expression replaced that gentle one, taking your hands in his as he pushed you away from him in a swift movement. You caught yourself before you could fall, looking at him sadly as you stared at him for what seemed like hours. "Stephen... Please let me help you. I don't want you to go through this alone." You started in distress, approaching him as youtried to reach for his hand, only to be pushed back once again.

"Leave me alone" He grumbled tiredly, anger lacing his voice as he saw your pityfull eyes staring at him intently. He turned around, walking towards his bed but stopping as he felt your hand gripping his arm instead. He turned his head sharply to see you still standing there. "Stephen... Please let me-"

Your words were cut short, your eyes widening in shock as tears brimmed your eyes. Your hand moved up towards your own cheek, which now felt throbbing and looked red. It took you a moment to realize what had happened.

Stephen had slapped you. He had taken his anger another level enough to hurt you physically. Your thoughts were interrupted by his hands grabbing your arms and pushing you towards the door of his room forcefully.

"I don't need your stupid help. I don't need your stupid pity. I. Don't need you in my house!" He growled, letting go of you as he grabbed the doorhandle and glared at you a last time. "Stop fucking bothering me. Get a god damn life and do something better than staying here doing nothing than bothering me." And with that he slammed the door closed.

You locked yourself in the bathroom that night. Leaving from there wasn't an option as there was a storm right outside, thunders striking down with intensity and closeness to many buildings. You had a sleepless night, spent crying quietly as you wouldn't want him to know you were still there.

As soon as you saw the raining stop, you gathered your bag and hurried out of his appartment, your footsteps quick as you hurried out the building. You sat down at the frontsteps, your legs giving out from under you as you merely sat there, looking up at the beautiful night sky decorated with stars and a bright moon. Your arms wrapped around yourself as tears rolled down your cheeks, not bothered at all by the drizzle of rain that still fell.

No one heard from you from that dreadful day. Some still wonder if you are even alive. It was long after you were gone that Stephen's mind finally snapped back to reality.

But it was already too late.