Beth's POV

Gemma and I walk through the automatic doors and straight away I'm hit with that familiar bleach smell of hospitals.

That and the sound of crying children, adults trying to placate them and the murmur of people talking to themselves while others stare mindlessly at the television on the wall.

We walk up to the reception desk and wait for the woman behind the counter to acknowledge us.

Her fire-engine red hair already annoys me for some unknown reason.

Or it could be the sudden look of surprise that crosses her face when she looks from me to Gemma and back to me.

"How may..." she begins to ask but I cut her off.

"My daughter Chloe Westlake is here," I interrupt.

"Oh you're...Harry is..." her eyes are like saucers as she puts two and two together and comes up with a huge fucking four.

"My daughter?" I repeat, this time more firmly.

"Oh...yes..." she says and starts typing, "one moment," she suddenly smirks up at us, "almost like their perfumes isn't it?"

Is she fucking serious?

I reach over the counter and grab her by her stupid red curls and bang her head repeatedly onto the keyboard until she's almost unconscious.

"Beth?  Beth?" Gemma says, giving me a nudge with her elbow.

"What?" I look at her as I snap out of my daydream and see Gemma nod her head towards fire-engine woman.

"If you'll just head over to those doors, I'll unlock it for you, follow the yellow lines and you'll end up at another reception desk, they'll be able to assist you," she says with a slight roll of her eyes, "don't forget to turn your mobile phones off please."

Fuck you.

I will not.

I almost want to poke my tongue out at her like a petulant child.

"Thank you," Gemma says as she loops her arm in mine.

"I'm a big fan!" fire-engine woman suddenly gushes to Gemma who gives her an incredulous look as we ignore her and walk over to the doors.

"Is she fucking serious?" I whisper to Gemma.

"Happens all the time like you wouldn't believe," she whispers back.

My eyes widen and her eyebrows raise as we look at each, waiting for a click from the doors.

We finally hear it and push open the doors, following the line through the maze of corridors coloured in a dull, white shade.

It still doesn't quite feel real.

I mean, I only just left her a few hours ago.

And I don't even know what's happened to her.

"It could just be a broken bone or something like that, right?" I say out loud.

Gemma squeezes my arm in reassurance.

"Whatever it is, you have us all here for you," she says, "especially Harry."

At the mention of his name I stiffen a little.

"Everything will work itself out," she says quietly as we walk.

The line soon stops a few metres in front of us at a nurse's station and to the left of us, a small waiting area emerges out of the solid wall and it's then that Gemma and I stop dead in our tracks.

In an instant, Harry is on his feet and starting to walk over to me.

I can't.

I hold up my hand for him to stop.

He is not my focus at this moment.

It's my boys.

As much as I need to know about Chloe, these two need me just as much too.

Jamie is sitting in the corner, curled into a ball, the hood of his hoodie is pulled over his face, vacant chairs on either side of him.

Nick is sitting next to Anne on one side of the room and Harry had been next to Robin on the other.

I walk over to Nick and he stands up as I pull him into a tight hug before kissing him on the cheek.

"We tried to get him talk Beth..." Anne starts to say as she looks worriedly over at Jamie.

"It's not you, it's how he is," I cut her off, knowing how extreme his moods and emotions can be, "sometimes he just needs to be left alone."

I let go of Nick and walk over to Jamie, kneeling down in front of him, feeling Harry's gaze boring into me from behind.

"James," I say quietly, "do you need a hug?"

For a moment there's nothing, then his head slowly starts to nod and he leans forward, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

I rub his back soothingly as I know this is what he needs right now and that I'm the only one that can deal with him when he's like this.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, feeling him nod his head again, "do you need anything?" I continue.

"No," he replies, "what's happening to Chloe?" he asks me.

"I don't know, but I'm just about to find out, okay?" I say calmly to him, even though my heart is racing on the inside.

I give him a tight squeeze and then release him before standing up and turning around to look at Harry.

He has tears in his eyes and his bottom lip and chin is trembling.

It's now that I'm looking at him that I feel fear run through me like someone has injected an icy cold liquid through my veins.

"What happened to her?" I ask, trying to keep my tone even.

"She..." he swallows nervously, "she was thrown from a horse...this dog..." he starts.

"She was what?" I ask again.

"Thrown off a horse," Harry repeats, guilt creeping across his beautiful features.

"Ms. Westlake?" a deep voice calls my name from behind.

"What was she doing on a horse?" I ask incredulously.

"Mum, Harry told..." Nick starts to say.

"Ms. Westlake?" the voice calls me again and I look over my right to see who I assume is the doctor that is looking after Chloe.

"Yes," I say as I turn around to him, my gaze hard as I look slowly from Harry to the doctor, "I'm her mother," I nod, "can I see her?"

"I'm Dr. Wynter," he says, holding his hand out for me to shake, "you can see her now and I'll explain where we're at with her," he pauses as he lets go of my hand, "now bear in mind she's still unconscious but..."

"What?" I look from Dr. Wynter to Harry and back, "why...she's unconscious?" my voice cracks as I realise the severity of her condition and having had no idea about it.

"I'll explain everything once you have a chance to see your daughter first," he says calmly as he extends his hand out to a nearby room and his other one gently touches my arm, "I'm sure this is all quite a shock to you, to everyone really."

I start to follow and notice Harry does too, but my head whips around in his direction and he stops, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets and training his gaze to the ground instead of at me.

I honestly can't deal with Harry right now, I have higher priorities and I need to try and get my head around everything and first hear about Chloe's condition.

I can't believe he let her on a fucking horse.

Dr. Wynter holds the door open and I walk into the room.

And my baby is lying on the bed, looking like she's just peacefully sleeping.

I walk over and she suddenly looks blurry to me and I realise it's tears falling down my cheeks causing it.

I brush them away as I sit in a chair and reach out to hold her hand in mine.

"It's looks worse than what it is," he says quietly.

"Why the tube?" I ask as I look at the ventilation tube coming out of her mouth.

He pulls another chair up on the other side of her and leans his forearms onto his thighs.

"Okay, when a child is thrown from a horse, the most obvious injuries we look for are head trauma, spinal and internal injuries and breaks to any bones," he pauses which I think is meant to give me time to digest what he's just said.

"We wanted to do an MRI immediately on her so we could see what we were potentially dealing with and your partner gave us permission to do that since we couldn't get in contact with you," he continues.

My partner?

I look at him, scrunching my face up in confusion.

"Mr. Styles?" he says.

"Oh, yes," I reply, feeling suddenly stupid, "sorry, yes he is."

It sounds so foreign when coming from someone else.

"So what did you find?" I ask, squeezing her hand as I glance at my sleeping babe and back to him.

"No breaks or fractures, no spinal injury or any internal injury," he says pausing.

"Her head?" I ask, addressing the obvious.

"It appears that when she was thrown, her head bore the brunt of the fall," he says, and in that moment, I feel the lunch I've eaten start to rise in my stomach as I take a shuddering breath.

"What...her..." I shake my head trying to comprehend him.

"The MRI shows some swelling on the brain..." he says.

"What?" I cut him off, my voice rising.

Why the fuck is that all I only seem to be able to say right now?

What, what, what.

"But," he continues, "we do believe it is just a cerebral contusion and it will subside, given time."

"That's a good thing right?  I mean it sounds good," I quickly ask, and he nods his head in agreement, "will there be any lasting damage?"

"We are hopeful that there won't be anything more than a bad headache for a few days once she wakes up," he smiles comfortingly, "but again, we won't know anything definite until then, but we're quietly confident from what we've seen so far."

I know I should feel relief or comfort at his words but I don't think I truly will until she wakes up.

"So why the breathing tube if you think she's going to be okay?" I ask him.

"We just want to take the pressure off her body as the swelling subsides to ease her recovery, so she's more relaxed and her body isn't working so hard," he explains, "sedating her for now will do that."

"Right," I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.

It's not like I haven't seen this all before, the difference being that this child doesn't have 20-odd tubes coming out of her, keeping her alive, which is a comforting thought.

"We're just ensuring she's comfortable and in no unnecessary pain," he says.

"How long will you keep her like this?  Sedated I mean?" I question.

"A couple of days, depending how quickly the swelling subsides," he says, "which we'll monitor closely."

"So we basically just have to wait?" I say.

"We do," he confirms.

"But you think she's going to be okay?" I ask.

"Nothing's ever one hundred percent guaranteed, but I'm quietly confident she'll make a full recovery Ms. Westlake," he smiles kindly at me.

I nod my head in response.

She's going to be okay.

She will be okay.

"I can stay with her though?" I ask, "I don't want to leave her," I suddenly feel a wave of panic at the thought of having to be apart from her.

"Yes of course, we can arrange for a fold-out bed to be brought in here for you," he says, "naturally most parents choose to stay with their children, I'll arrange that for you immediately."

Great.

The boys can share the bed and I'll sleep in a chair.

We'll be fine.

He stands up and I do the same, gently laying Chloe's hand down next to her sleeping form.

"And not too many visitors either," he says as he walks around the bed, "there are other serious patients in this area too."

"Off course," I reply, "thank you again."

"My pleasure," he says, "please see the nursing staff should you need anything in the meantime."

He opens the door and as he does I see Harry shoot straight up out of his chair.

Dr. Wynter turns around to look at me, his body blocking the doorway as his eyebrows raise up in silent question.

"Not just yet," I reply quietly as I shake my head and turn back to Chloe.

I have a multitude of emotions and thoughts going through me right now and I just can't.

It's as simple as that.

I just can't.

I sit back down and cross my arms on the bed, leaning my head on them, hiding my face from the world.

Just a few more minutes before I face everyone out in the waiting area.

But I'm not sure how long I've been sitting here for when a hand on my shoulder makes me jump in fright.

I look up expecting Harry but it's actually Anne standing there.

She squeezes it in a comforting gesture before walking around the other side of the bed and sitting in the chair that was just occupied by Dr. Wynter.

"How is she?" she asks, looking at Chloe with concern and then to me.

I explain everything that Dr. Wynter just told me and I can see the relief on her face as she realises that Chloe should recover from this.

"Beth," she pauses before continuing, "I'm sure you're feeling so much at the moment and I'm not even going to pretend I can relate, but as a mother, I understand that I would be feeling angry and upset right now."

I don't say anything; I simply wait for her to continue.

"But I say this as Harry's mother, that he is absolutely devastated over this," she says, "he cares so much for you, all of you, you've all become very precious to him.  I know I can't ask you not to be angry with him, just...know that he's hurting over this too."

Of course he is.

But this isn't about him.

This is about my daughter and he...

He let this happen.

"You have to understand that my children are my priority Anne," I reply, "and I can't deal with Harry right now, I can't talk to him," I sniff loudly, hoping it will stop the flow of tears building up.

"But you have to," she says gently, "at least to set his mind at ease somewhat until you can talk properly together."

But I don't want to talk.

I want to curl up into a ball and wish this all away.

"What are you going to do now?" she asks.

"Stay here and wait of course," I reply.

What else am I going to do?

She looks at Chloe thoughtfully before speaking.

"Might I make a suggestion?" she says, "let me take the boys home with me?"

Is she serious?

After everything that's happened with Chloe?

"Beth, I can assure you they will not be allowed to do anything reckless," she continues, "they'll be fed, have a warm place and comfortable bed to sleep in.  They'll probably spend all their time on Harry's x-box anyway!" she smiles, "let Robin and I do this for you?"

She is right though.

They would be better off staying at her house rather than in a hospital.

I ought to know, I've done it before.

"Okay," I finally agree, "thank you.  I better talk to them and explain everything then."

I stand up and Anne does the same, the two of us walking over to the door together.

I grab hold of the door handle and take a deep breath to calm my nerves.

Or my anger.

I'm sure it's a mixture of both.

Anne gently pats my back in a comforting gesture.

"I'm sure you'll work it out," she says, "one step at a time."

I give her a half smile before we both walk into the waiting room.

I sit down between them and explain what I've been told about Chloe's condition.

I'm also aware that Harry is listening and I glance his way occasionally as I talk.

"Do you want to see her?" I ask them both.

"Okay," Nick slowly nods and the three of us stand and walk over to her door.

They both cautiously peer around me to look at their sister, not venturing any further into the room.

Nick walks back over to his chair and sits down, leaning against the wall before letting out a huff.

"What?" I ask him.

"It's her own fault!" he snaps, "if she wasn't so stubborn this wouldn't have happened!"

"Nick!" I say, as I see Harry look down at his feet.

"Well it's true!" he says, his voice rising, "we all tried to stop her."

"Okay," I reply, rubbing my eyes in frustration, "keep it down please mate."

He fixes me with an angry stare, but I understand he's letting his frustration and fear out on me and as his mother, I'll wear it.

"Are you sure she's not going to die?" Jamie says suddenly, "like me?"

It becomes very silent.

I'm very aware that everyone is suddenly looking wide-eyed at Jamie and I after what he just said.

"No sweetheart," I reply, "they think she'll be okay."

"But she has the same tube I had," he says, looking at her.

"She does, but it's a little bit different than for you," I explain.

He nods silently, taking it all in.

I can see Anne's idea is probably going to be a good one now, judging by Nick's behaviour and Jamie's worry.

"Actually," I begin, "Harry's mum has suggested that you and Jamie might like to stay with her for a few days."

"Where are you going to stay mum?" Jamie asks.

"Here," I nod to Chloe's room, "I'm going to stay here until she wakes up."

"How long will that be?" Nick asks.

"A few days by the sounds of it," I reply, "what do you think about that?"

The boys look at each other and seem to silently communicate between themselves.

"Okay," Nick says, "we have stuff in Harry's car that we can take."

"Yes," I nod my head, "yes, good idea."

Nick stands up and steps closer to me and gives me a hug before whispering to me.

"Harry told her no," he says quietly.

"Clearly not hard enough, I whisper back, "he's the adult."

I let go of him and give Jamie a hug as well.

"She's going to be fine mate," I tell him, "once she's home she'll be annoying the crap out of you within five minutes."

He squeezes me tightly around the waist before letting go and walking over to Anne, comfortable enough with her to let her put her arm around his shoulders as they walk out with Nick and Robin.

"Call me if you need anything at all," Gemma says before giving me a hug.

Can everyone please stop hugging me and touching me?

It's making me want to scream my head off.

Harry comes up to stand next to me.

"I'll, um..." he mumbles, "unlock my car for them and I'll come back."

Why?

I can't deal with you right now and I just want you to leave me alone.

But I don't say that out loud.

I just look at him and walk back into Chloe's room and sit down next to her bed.

Shortly after, my bed is wheeled in for me and the nurse unfolds it for me before pulling out extra blankets, which I'm thankful for because I always feel the cold in hospitals.

I thank her and look back at Chloe before looking at the time.

It's now 7pm.

I seem to have lost all track of time.

And Harry didn't come back.

He did exactly what I wanted.

Exactly what Heath would do when I was angry or upset.

So why do I feel so...

Empty?

I blink back the tears that threaten to fall and realise it's a different kind of alone that I'm feeling.

And I don't like it.

Even though I'm beyond upset with him.

I think that I wish he was here.

I lean down onto the bed, resting the side of my head on my folded arms and cry until I fall asleep exhausted.

~~~~~~

A crinkling noise wakes me from my sleep and I slowly yawn and stretch my arms.

What the hell has happened to Harry's bed?

It's as hard as a rock.

I twist around and a strange noise sounds.

And it's squeaky now too.

Then the sweet smell of pancakes fills the air.

I sit up and as I open my eyes and I realise I've forgotten where I am.

I'm in the fold-out bed and Harry is standing over the portable table with a large brown paper bag and a cardboard drinks tray.

He looks over at me, my movement catching his eye.

"Thought you might be hungry," he says, pulling the pancakes out of the bag and bringing them over to me, along with a hot chocolate and an orange juice, "wasn't sure what you wanted," he says, "just knew it wouldn't be eggs though."

I give him a small smile at his attempt at humour as I take the food from him.

"You didn't have to come in with this, but thank you," I say.

"I didn't," he says and I frown in confusion, "I spent the night here and went and got them this morning."

It's then I notice he's wearing the same clothes from yesterday.

"You stayed here?" I ask.

"Yeah," he nods, "spent a few hours out there," he nods at the waiting room, "then came in last night and you were sound asleep sitting on the chair, so I put you to bed and slept in the chair instead."

Oh.

He did come back for me.

"You stayed?" I repeat.

"I did," he says, "I know that you were mad at me, most like still are, but I wasn't going to leave you, no matter what you said to me."

He stayed.

For me.

"Eat up love," he says as he sits on the chair and pulls his own breakfast out, "you need to keep your strength up."

Together we eat our breakfast in silence, the only audible sound is of the respirator, painfully loud in the quiet room.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry says after a while.

I don't reply, I just look up at him from the bed.

"What did Jamie mean out there yesterday?" he asks, "when he asked if Chloe was dying like he was?"

I finish chewing and swallow, taking a sip of my orange juice before I answer.

"Jamie is very aware of what happened to him as a baby," I begin, "his body carries the scars from it."

Harry's eyes widen and he stops eating, waiting for me to continue.

"When he was born, he had complications," I continue, "long story short, he was born with a heart defect.  Five holes in his heart and only one ventricle in his heart that wasn't formed properly, so it leaked," I pause for a moment before continuing, "he had his first open heart surgery at seven weeks of age, but it wasn't successful.  A couple of weeks later he began to die so he was sedated until they were able to operate again at ten weeks."

"Jesus Christ," Harry says, clearly in shock as I tell Jamie's story.

I don't even look at Harry, instead concentrating on a spot on the polished floor.

"They took him off me and said they didn't think there was anything else they could do for him but they were willing to try again, they couldn't promise they'd bring him back," my head suddenly snaps up to look at him, "have you ever heard of people say a dead person's skin looks grey in colour?"

He nods silently.

"I walked in on a Saturday morning to see him and he was grey," I say, "I've never seen anything like it," I can picture it still as if it was yesterday, but then I shake my head, shaking the vision away, "anyway, during the second surgery, they found a hole they'd missed and he made the quickest recovery after that."

"So how did he associate that with seeing Chloe?" Harry asks.

"He's seen the photos of himself in ICU, hooked up to around twenty different tubes," I explain, "one of them was an intubator, that's what he would be thinking."

"I had no idea," Harry says, "Beth I'm so sorry."

"Why would you?" I reply, "I've never told you."

Harry looks over to Chloe, his eyes close as he bites his lips together.

"I'm so sorry I let this happen Beth," he whispers, "you have to believe how sorry I am."

He looks over at me and tears are starting to fall down his cheeks as his voice breaks.

"Can you ever forgive me Beth?" he pleads.