Capture

Together

The paramedics arrived within minutes, but it felt like hours. One of them gently pulled Liam from my lap, his body limp and slick with blood, and laid him flat on the gurney. I hovered beside them, numb and shivering, my robe hanging loose over my barely clothed body. My eyes never left Liam.

"We were in the bedroom," Harry explained, stepping forward, still barefoot and wearing only boxers. His voice was calm, steady. The opposite of mine. "Emma heard a noise—loud, like someone trying to break in. I came out and found him like this."

I tried to nod in agreement, to say something—anything—but my mouth wouldn't form words. I just stared at Liam. He looked lifeless. His chest was rising, but barely. One of the paramedics checked his pulse while the other began to hook him up to a monitor. I found my voice, fragile and trembling. "Will he be okay?"

Neither of them answered. They didn't even look at me. Instead, one of them turned to Harry. "How do you two know the victim?"

Harry hesitated. "He's... a neighbor."

"You live here too?" the other medic asked, glancing between us.

"Sort of. I'm a neighbor, too—but I'm her fiancé," Harry added, motioning toward me.

Fiancé. The word rang hollow in my ears.

I took another step forward, toward Liam, my fingers twitching at my sides. "Please," I said, louder this time. "Is he going to be okay?"

The medic finally turned toward me, his expression was tight with sympathy. "He's in critical condition. Blunt force trauma. Multiple facial fractures, at least one rib broken—possibly more. He needs a trauma team, fast."

My knees buckled slightly, but I caught myself on the back of the couch. "I'm coming with you," I said, already reaching out for Liam's hand as they began wheeling him toward the door.

"Ma'am," The medic said gently, "we can't allow anyone in the rig unless they're family."

"I am family," I whispered hoarsely. 

Harry sighed. "Em, you're not his family."

"I'm - he doesn't have anyone else," I whispered with a violent sob breaking free from my chest.

"I wish I could let you, ma'am," The medic said gently. He looked at me, then at my thin robe, the blood still drying on my arms. "But... I don't think it's appropriate, in your current—uh—state."

"I'm fine," I snapped, the desperation cracking through my voice. "He needs someone with him. He doesn't have anyone else. Please."

The other medic, already guiding the stretcher out, shook his head. "I'm sorry. We can't."

Harry moved to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders protectively. "We'll follow," he said quickly. "We'll be right behind."

I didn't even nod. I just moved in a daze, my limbs barely responding. We rushed to throw on real clothes—me pulling on the first hoodie and leggings I could find, Harry grabbing jeans and his keys. Within minutes, we were in the car, speeding after the ambulance through the storm-slick streets.

The silence in the car was suffocating. Rain pounded the windshield. The only sound was the squeak of the wipers and the distant wail of sirens ahead. I sat curled into the passenger seat, arms wrapped around myself, my chest caving in. My heart was still in that apartment, on the floor, next to Liam. "What if he dies?" I whispered, the words tasting like acid. "He can't die, Harry."

Harry said nothing. His jaw was clenched, hands white-knuckled on the wheel. And I knew—he wasn't just racing to the hospital.

He was racing against something else, too. Something neither of us could outrun.