Remember Me [h.s.]

4

I'm trying not to let it show,
that I don't want to let this go.
Is there somewhere you can meet me?

Two weeks after

Two weeks passed surprisingly quickly, and fourteen days after the accident, I was deemed well enough to be released. I had a cast on my left arm and my right leg and a pain from my fractured ribs that caused me to groan at any sudden movement. I was not healed but I was okay, I was not fixed but apparently, I was restoring.

Jane was a different story. Due to the swelling of her brain, her doctors needed to keep a close eye on her. She was in need of at least another six weeks of treatment and hopefully, they said, she would regain her memory.

That's the funny thing about brains, they're completely and entirely unpredictable. For an organ with the capacity of understanding nearly anything, our limited understanding of it is almost ironic. Brains work at their own pace, each one as individual as a finger print. Some healed quickly after trauma, some took longer, and some didn't heal at all. I could only hope that Jane's would be the one to prevail.

Niall and Zayn knocked on the door of my room, then entered without an answer. They came bearing a change of clothes for me to avoid my exiting the hospital in the traditional gown. Niall offered me a sad smile, the only expression anyone then seemed to extend.

"You ready, mate?" He asked, his voice soft; almost as though he feared a louder tone would add to my trauma.

"Can I see her before I leave?" I asked eagerly, to which they exchanged a look.

"Harry," Zayn warned. "She still hasn't...you know. Regained her memory."

"I know," I furrowed my brow. "But she's my girlfriend, and I love her, and I want to see her."

"I don't know, man." He rubbed the nape of his neck. Niall chewed his fingernails. "Her brother's with her right now..."

"So?" I pushed, getting frustrated. "I've met Miles before. I think I can handle it." I reached over and took my change of clothes from Zayn's hand. I wished desperately that I could dress myself, but unfortunately, I needed help. "Uh," I stuttered, cheeks heating in embarrassment. "Could you...?"

Zayn's previously hardened expression softened. "Sure." He said, and he and Niall began their attempt at dressing me without disturbing my injuries.

I tried to not be ashamed by my need for assistance, but as my best friends struggled to clothe my bare body, I felt next to incompetent. My casts would only last for a matter of weeks, but I couldn't imagine the horror of being clothed everyday, or performing any other basic human functions.

Once Niall and Zayn finally finished clothing me, I grabbed ahold of my crutches that leaned against the wall nearby. I wobbled slightly before regaining my balance and slowly hopping toward the door.

"Harry..." Zayn warned, knowing exactly where I was heading, though he made no attempt at stopping me.

"I have to see her." I insisted. "I need her to know that I'm here."

~*~

Even with two broken ribs, a broken arm, and brain damage, the sight of Jane took my breath away as it did every time I saw her. Sitting on her hospital bed, staring down at the food tray in front of her, she looked like an angel.

"Hi," I said hesitantly as I limped inside, my crutches scraping lightly against the tiled floor.

Jane looked up a me, her hazel eyes glistening beneath the illumination of the sun's beams streaming through the window. Her lips pressed together in a tight line, an expression I knew to be her way of warning another person not to get too close. It was her look of distrust.

"Hi." She echoed suspiciously, narrowing her eyes slightly. I knew she was wary of me since, to her, I was a stranger.

"Um," I leaned against the wall opposite of where she sat, careful not to get too close. "How are you feeling?"

For a moment, she didn't answer, but rather stared directly at me. Her eyes danced across my face, taking in my every small movement as though she were evaluating me. For an instant, I thought I saw a hint of recognition flash across her features, but all too quickly, it vanished.

"Fine," She answered, taking in the sight of my cast and crutches, then placing a small hand upon her own. "Were you...?" She trailed off, still staring at me, trying to place me.

"In the accident with you? Yes."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh."

"I was driving. It was my fault. I'm so sorry."

She released a breath, her features softening slightly as she pouted her bottom lip. "That's alright," She said gently. "We're both okay and that's all that matters." She offered me a shy smile, the kind that one would exchange with a pleasant stranger with whom they'd just conversed, not a boyfriend that they loved.

"Well," I said. "Maybe not that okay. I do have multiple broken bones."

Jane's smile deepened as a small giggle escaped her lips. "Oh yeah," She added playfully. "And I do have this teeny tiny brain damage thing, but hey, it's no big deal."

That last sentence reminded me why I was so in love with her. Her ability to take the shittiest of situations and turn them into a joke astounded me. Here we stood, two broken humans, nearly gripped by death, making light of our trauma. Only Jane could pull such optimism from my normally cynical soul. I wished more than anything that I could kiss her.

"So, um, what have they told you?" I ask, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Not much." Jane sighed. "I mean, my brother, Miles, explained the basics-amnesia, brain swelling-but other than that, I've kind of been kept in the dark."

"Did he mention me?" I asked a little too hopefully.

"I-uh," A blush crept onto her cheeks. "What's your name again?"

I sucked in a breath.

"Harry," I told her.

Jane frowned. "Maybe he mentioned you once? He never told me that you were in the accident too, that's for sure." She paused momentarily. "Are we friends?"

I didn't think it was possible for my heart to break more than once but upon her questioning, the vital organ seemingly split down the middle. I pondered this question. Were we friends? Best friends. Lovers. Everything and anything in between. To me, the day began and ended with her. She was the light source that fueled my every moment-with her open-mouthed grins, and the stars that stringed together within her hazel eyes to form constellations of gold. We were more than two people in a relationship. We were the kind of people that are read about in books, with the kind of love that is believed to only thrive in a world of the imaginary. But none of this mattered, not to Jane. Jane didn't remember any of this. Jane had no idea of the kind of energy and pure, passionate love that once flowed between us both. To Jane, "friends" was a word suitable enough to describe what we had.

"Yeah," I puffed out a breath, not fully trusting my shaky voice. "We're friends."

Jane offered a half-smile.

"Well, then, I'm sorry that I don't remember you, but I can promise that I'll try."

I pressed my lips into a tight line and urged my eyes not to water.

"Yeah," I fake-laughed. "I hope you will."