Dr. Harry Styles

I Remember

~ Lucy's POV ~

Right before the door opened, I felt Harry wipe the tears off my face with his delicate hands.

"We're here," he whispered in my ear. "Just don't move."

I tried to lift my head out of his lap when I suddenly felt a wave of black rush through my head.

My eyes fell heavier and heavier until I couldn't keep them open anymore.

The last thing I could hear was Harry.

"Come on Lucy, stay with us."

~ Harry's POV ~

She slipped unconcious, and I suddenly realized how bad her injuries were.

Niall opened the door for me, and I carried her out of the car princess-bride style.

"I need a gurney!" I yelled at the swarm of interns at the door. "And throw me a pair of gloves."

One of them frantically pushed a navy blue gurney down the emergency ward hall and outside onto the concrete.

Another passed me a pair of gloves that I snapped on.

I lowered her legs first onto the plastic as one of the interns simultaneously placed a neck brace around her neck.

Her eyes slowly blinked open, and I could see that she was scared more than I had ever seen before. She tried to talk, but she couldn't say anything.

"It's okay Lucy," I said looking deep into her eyes.

And then we were moving.

I ran down the all-too-familiar hall with my hands on the guard rails of the gurney, pushing her along.

The problem with being famous, or at least being a part of One Direction, is that there is a whole group of people who dedicate their lives to finding you, and coming up with whatever they can think of to get the next big story.

And as soon as they have a location on you, so does your fans.

The Royal Hospital was established as part of network of private hospitals all around the world for the small group of people who can't go anywhere without a flash of cameras.

In our most vulnerable moments, the last thing we need for our own health and safety is a mob of people chasing after us.

The drive was about forty minutes longer than it would have been if we went to the closest hospital. I just hoped she was going to be okay.

I snapped out of my thoughts as we entered the trauma room.

There was a group of emergency room residents and an attending physician waiting for Lucy.

We moved the gurney side by side to the trauma table.

"On three," one of the interns said. "One, two, three!"

We all lifted Lucy onto the table.

Wires flew around like wildfire in a drought until machines buzzed and beeped everytime her heart leaped.

The cold scissors cut the clothing off her skin to reveal a bruised body covered in cuts.

And the only thoughts that came to me is how this could happen to someone like her.

"Somebody page ortho," one of the residents yelled as they uncovered her foot.

The voices kept coming.

"Hang two units of O-neg."

"We need an neuro consult."

And then one booming voice hit me harder than the last.

"Doctor Styles," he said, "I'm going to need you to step outside."

"I'm not going anywhere," I yell.

"Tiller," he said addressing an intern, "go get him a gown."

The intern came back with a yellow plastic gown that tied up in the back, and tied it on me.

I stepped over Lucy. They had already stitched up most of the cuts.

"All major wounds sutured," a voice said.

"Alright, we need a head CT for neuro and a set of X-rays for ortho," the booming masculine voice said again.

Then I remembered the name. John Anderson. Doctor Anderson.

The doctor who wrecked my career.

And then they wheeled her out of the room.

I had seen so many patients with wires and tubes that stuck out of their skin, but there was something about Lucy that was different.

I ran my hands against the walls like I used to when I was an intern here. I remember the operating theatres on the third floor. I recognized all the senior doctors walking down the hall.

But worst of all, I remembered the doctor who I silently swore to myself that I was going to forget.

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Filler chapter but I have something great planned, don't worry if this doesn't make sense yet! It will soon (I hope!) Thanks for 800+! This is crazy!