TINY MIA

“Are you alright?”

Brooke had been almost too quiet. It was like she knew immediately. But it was kind of her to ask anyway. She looked up at her as she examined the next component on the checklist in her mind and then turned back to the body in front of her.

No, she wasn’t alright. She was tired. The new bed she ordered was delayed again. It felt like a joke. She felt like a joke. The feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t go away. She was trying to distance herself emotionally from Harry and it felt like they were in a fight. There was a court case she was dreading tomorrow because of the feeling in her stomach. The tutoring was all fine and dandy, but she knew she had to read her brother’s lab report when she got home, and her sister wanted her opinion on what to wear to graduation this weekend and it felt like it was just all too much.

On top of that she was almost certain she had a nail in her tire (because of course there was) and she wasn’t sure how she was going to get that fixed between now and when she left for her sister’s graduation on Friday.

There was also a possibility she was getting a cold—or her allergies were finally making themselves known for the spring season. But she felt like the pressure in her sinuses wouldn’t go away.

“Lieutenant Davis is here,” Benny called.

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

It was way too much. “I’ll be one minute, just send him to my office.”

“You need a spa day,” Brooke mumbled.

She remembered the last time she went to the spa. It was a terrible day. Felt eerily similar to her current day. “No time,” she mumbled. “I’m going to my parents for a few days to help them get ready for my sister’s graduation party.”

“Sounds like a perfect time to go to the spa. Fade into nothingness in a hot tub, wouldn’t that be lovely? Maybe you could bring Harry,” she grinned.

“I don’t know if… if that’s a good idea,” she stated quietly as she focused on her next checklist item.

She was actually pretty confident that Brooke’s idea was brilliant. But with how much she was distancing herself, it wasn’t an option. Hopefully Harry would just forget all about her. Brooke gasped. “You’re joking.” She didn’t say anything to her friend. She was being rude and cranky. Maybe that was Mrs. Wentworth’s problem. Too much in her life all at once. If it was the problem, she understood, finally. “Girl,” she was still in shock. “Please tell me you’re lying.”

“I have stuff to do, Brooke,” she put her tools down, tugged her mask off, and snapped the gloves off her hands into the trash. She used the hand sanitizer dispenser by the door and then tugged the hair tie out of her bun.

“Like going to the spa with Harry?” Her friend mumbled while finishing the report on the tablet for the last bit of stuff she’d gone over.

Did she really want to be friends with Brooke? “We can talk about it later. Maybe…”

“Oh, I plan on it,” she nodded to herself.

She rolled her eyes. Headed down the hall toward her office inspecting her cuticles as she went. A spa day would be nice. Really nice, actually. Maybe she could ask Raleigh what he could do for her in an hour. She needed to pack and get recipes gathered. Despite how much better it would be to be with Harry, she needed to keep her mind occupied away from him and—

She stopped in the hall back to her office like she bumped into someone even though she was the only one in the hall. She swiftly returned to the room she left Brooke in standing in the doorway but felt like her body wasn’t really hers. “What did you say?”

Brooke glanced at her and shook her head. “Nothing?”

“Earlier.”

Brooke looked up at her, her eyebrows furrowed together. “About what?”

“The spa,” was the earth moving? The room might have been spinning. Or were her legs giving out?

“That… that you should fade into nothingness? Like did you even go to the spa last time? You need a class in relaxation—what’s wrong? Why do you look like—where are you going?! Hey…! What about Davis?” Brooke was following after her but she simply wasn’t fast enough.

She ran to her locker at the back of the building and tapped the buttons for her lock code as fast as humanly possible. She opened the locker, grabbed her keys and nothing else; not her license, not her wallet, not her coat. She even left it open before she bolted out the building as well.

Her car was barely in drive before she peeled out of the parking lot. She swore she ran a red light, maybe two and there was a very good chance she was ruining the rim of her flattening tire. At a red light halfway down the street from Kingsley Place, there were simply too many cars between where she was and where she needed to be. Perhaps the city was finally filling the pothole that definitely would have ruined her tire in another few days if it wasn’t for the nail.

She pulled to the side of the road and parked before running the rest of the block to her apartment building. She didn’t look to check, but she was pretty sure she’d left her driver’s door open and from the sound of the horns beeping it was fairly good confirmation. At least whoever stole her car, wouldn’t get far on a flat tire.

She was out of breath as she entered the lobby and sprinted for the office behind the desk. She smacked the door open without warning. Harry nearly fell out of his chair, tossing some of the papers he had on his desk into the air along with the pen he was holding went flying across the small room. “Jesus!” He shouted. She didn’t even say anything as she yanked the AED box off the wall. She was vaguely aware that some of the wall plaster came with it. “Are you—”

“Give me your key!” She had to have looked like a lunatic. Her hand outstretched, her breathing erratic. It was probably illegal for her to have access to anyone’s apartment. She was in love with Harry but didn’t have the same privileges and she shouldn’t regardless of how much she loved him. With her luck, she’d get him fired. But Harry merely blinked once, overwhelmed by her urgency, and grabbed the keys off the hook behind him, and dropped his keyring into her hand.

“Is everything—” but he didn’t get the full question out before she was running out to the lobby again. Harry was still back by his desk, stuttering and confused while she waited for the elevator to come down from the ninth floor. She tapped her foot impatiently, breathing hard and she pulled her phone from her pocket. She ignored the simultaneous calls from Brooke and the lieutenant.

“Young lady, you’ve left a trail of some kind of mess—”

Mrs. Wentworth was her last straw. “Oh my God, SHUT UP! Just shut UP!” She was not proud of how she sounded. But the elevator stopped on the sixth floor for a moment longer than she would have liked, and she bolted for the staircase leaving Mrs. Wentworth to huff and about the mess she wasn’t sure she was actually leaving in the lobby.

Instead of answering the lieutenant’s call (for the fifth time) she dialed the emergency number and rushed through the introductions to the dispatcher at the other end. It was a huge déjà vu moment and for someone who often felt she wasn’t like a real doctor, there was no stopping her once she started.

“Hey! What’s wrong—” Harry was, for once, running behind her.

She spoke the address of Kingsley Place into her phone and was fortunate she got the words “fourth floor” out of her mouth before her toe almost got caught on the edge of one of the steps. Fortunately, she stopped herself before smashing her face into one of the next steps. It did make her lose her phone, however, but she didn’t need it anymore now that dispatch had been warned.

“Darling, can you—?”

But as much as she loved Harry and wanted to have it all out with him again, she couldn’t wait a second longer than she already had. Worry filled her so much it was honestly a miracle she could even remember all the stuff in her head. She slammed into the door for the fourth floor she was shocked it didn’t come off its hinges. Without breaking stride, she continued her sprint down the hall nearly falling again as she skidded to a stop in front of the door labeled G.

Her hands were shaking ferociously; she had to steady one with the other and still barely managed to shove Harry’s master key into the lock and push her way inside. At some point in time, she learned all five senses would be super useful to assessing any medical situation she encountered. But all of her senses were overpowered by the music blaring through the apartment. How no one had reported a sound violation to Harry was a mystery to her. Or the soundproofing was far more superior than she thought and it was just another thing about Mrs. Wentworth that she would love to argue about if she was a meaner person.

Other than the slight pause at the sound of the overpowering music, she rushed through the different rooms of the apartment. “Can you tell me what—” Poor Harry hadn’t asked a full question since she barged into his office. Without pausing to let him finish that one either, she shoved the bathroom door open of the master bedroom once she heard the sound of water running over the music.

An unconscious Mason in a half-state of undress (and the part that was dressed was fully soaked) was on the floor in front of her. The water was still running, overflowing from the tub. It was probably moments away from being an issue in the apartment below, but who knew if that would have been enough either?

There was a cut on his head from where he had fallen into the haphazard position he laid on the ground. His towel rack was pulled from the wall with more sheetrock just like Harry’s office; telling the story about what had happened to him without needing any verbal explanation. “Shit,” Harry whispered behind her and then moved around them to get to the water nozzle.

She placed the AED box on the counter and started to drag Mason under his arms across the wet tiles and soaked bathmats. Her sneakers squeaked as she moved his heavy leadened weight and she grunted with effort. “Here,” Harry helped to grab under his arms as she had and since Harry was much stronger, they pulled Mason to his bedroom with much more ease.

She grabbed the AED box, flicked it open, and grabbed the small white nasal sprays from the box and turned back to Mason hurriedly. Harry pulled a blanket off the bed and covered him for some decency. “Hey!” She shouted at his unconscious form. “Turn the music off,” she directed to Harry. He hurried out of the room. “Mason!?” She rubbed the center of his chest with her knuckles, checked his pulse, lifted his eyelid to check his pupils. She checked for any sign of life before she put the tip of the spray nozzle into his nose and pushed the plunger.

She looked at her watch and scooted back just in case. “Is he—” Poor Harry couldn’t get a single question out today.

Mason practically sat straight up, as his consciousness returned. He gasped and spluttered, drooling and looking around trying to figure out what happened.

She sighed with relief, but her heartrate and adrenaline continued so it wasn’t that much relief. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said soothingly and grabbed his arm. “Lie down,” she turned his head gently to the side just in case he threw up.

Which was good because then he did, in fact, throw up.

“Holy shit,” Harry whispered.

Mason was blinking and moaning.

“Mason?!” It was Hailey’s voice. “There’s water leaking into Sloane’s apart—”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What the hell happened—” Hailey and Sloane gasped again almost in unison as they joined her and Harry in Mason’s bedroom.

“Get. Out,” she snarled at the girls in the doorway. “And whatever pills you have, dump them,” she snapped.

“Oh my God,” Sloane whispered.

“Harry, can you get EMS up here?” She asked without looking at him. After the sound of heels disappeared, she heard Harry’s footsteps disappear as well. “Do you remember what you took, Mason?”

He mumbled something half coherently and she tugged the blanket off him to cover where he’d gotten sick. It felt a little stupid, perhaps, but she wanted to keep his face out of his own vomit while he lay there in pain. “Doc, a little warning next time,” Lieutenant Davis stated a bit breathless as he entered the room.

“Sorry, I figured it was… pressing.”

“I’ll say,” he chuckled without humor. “Mr. Collins,” Lieutenant Davis greeted as the medics began prepping him for a transfer to a gurney. They checked vitals and discussed his current state as she explained as much as she could from her perspective. “I’m Lieutenant Davis. It’s not very often my favorite medical examiner gets to work on patients before they get to her office. You’re an extremely lucky man,” he took the small notebook out of his front pocket and the pen in his other pocket. “Want to tell me what you took?”

All eyes in the room turned to him. The medics paused as they got Mason on the gurney and properly covered him. He cleared his throat as they strapped him into place and began hooking up the proper mechanisms for his trip to the hospital. Harry helped her stand on her feet. He was gazing at her with a million emotions running through his mind: shock, yes. But even she could recognize it was most entirely, complete and total awe. “I uh…” Mason started, cleared his throat again and looked down at his hands in his lap.

“It’s a lot better for you legally if you start telling me what you know now,” Davis reminded him.

He cleared his throat again. Looked at her, the lieutenant, and back again. “Thank you… really. I don’t…I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled.

She took a deep breath and looked at him pleadingly. The familiar feeling in her body for the last few months, the word on the tip of her tongue. It was right in front of her. “Tell him,” she tilted her head toward Davis.

He nodded. Swallowed hard. Closed his eyes. “It’s called Fade.”

*

Harry was waiting in the lobby in regular clothes, and he didn’t give a fuck who saw him. If they didn’t know he was in love with her now, they were going to. He was sick of her not sleeping in a bed. His bed. When she was wrapped in his blankets and arms that was the best sleep for him and he truly believed it might be best for her too.

Harry hardly got to speak a word to her after Mason left. She was needed at the station. Then needed to go gather all the reports she had that gave her the feeling in the pit of her stomach for the last few months. He only got to hear bits and pieces as Davis and she walked back down. I was doing some research… about different combinations... It’s an old party drug… Mason was talking… he said fade and… then Brooke…

It didn’t matter. Not really. When they got to the main entrance, Davis headed to his car, and she and Harry stood at the door awkwardly. He opened his mouth to say something, but she crossed her arms around herself and then looked at the floor. “Sorry about the mess,” she mumbled to Harry.

“Darling—”

“I’ve gotta go,” she jerked her thumb toward the door. “Have a nice night, Harry.”

So, Harry bit his tongue and kept his thoughts to himself. Mostly because it was really necessary that she had to leave to deal with all the legal things.

It worked out alright for the time being. But he was anxiously awaiting her turn before she even left the curbside.

Harry had to clean Mason’s watery mess. Then, even though he really didn’t want to, he went to check on the ceiling (and technically the girls) in the apartment below. It was a couple hours before Harry could go to the office and take mental stock of what happened. He placed the paperwork he would need to file later on and wrote down a new list that Niall would have to tackle. By the time he finished all of that she still hadn’t returned.

Harry scrolled uselessly on his phone for another hour before the battery percentage mocked him. He was terrified to leave the lobby for a moment and miss her, but he ran down to his place to grab his phone charger and then left it in the office. After that he stared at the ceiling, the floor, the paint that was chipping in the corner of the lobby, the plants that needed more water, and few burnt out lightbulbs in the chandelier over the center of the room. He tapped his foot impatiently as another hour passed.

Finally, the main door opened. She had her bag on her shoulder. Her keys dangled in her hand. Harry overheard Davis tell her on their way out with the medics that her car was being brought to the station by one of the other cops. Davis cashed in a favor to their on-call mechanic for the station’s vehicles to get the tire replaced.

“Darling,” he stood as she approached the elevator.

“Harry, I’m exhausted. I just want to go to bed,” she murmured. They both stepped on the elevator and Harry pressed the bottom floor before she could hit the twelfth. “Stop it,” her voice cracked.

“Kitten,” he grabbed her arm gently as she reached for the open-door button.

“Harry.”

“Please,” he begged. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I’ve had a really long day.”

“I know—”

“So, I just want to go to sleep.”

The elevator descended and then she hit the twelfth floor. He closed his eyes.

“Darling, please,” he whispered, not moving as the door opened then closed again once they were in the basement and neither of them made a move to get off.

As it started to ascend for her floor, he pressed the button for the basement again.

“Harry,” she sighed heavily.

Was he really going to prevent her from getting off the lift when they arrived? He wasn’t really sure. It was very possible. He was a little unsure of his own thought process but knew he had to talk to her. No matter what it took. She pressed the button for the fifth floor.

Was she going to walk up the rest of the way just so she wouldn’t have to talk to him?

He put his hand on the door-close button so it wouldn’t let her off and he stood in front of the door.

So yes, apparently, he really wasn’t going to let her off.

“Harry!”

“Jus’ talk t’me, darling. Please,” he begged.

She pressed the open-door button and kept pressing it as they approached the fifth floor and the gears shifted behind the metal to open. But apparently, Harry had the magic touch and it didn’t open. She tapped the button repeatedly and she practically whimpered as the machinery protested. “Harry, I can’t—”

The elevator jolted hard, knocking their hands away from the button panel. She nearly tripped into the wall, but Harry grabbed her arm gently. A buzzer sounded from inside the walls of the elevator and she pressed her lips into a line. “You have got to be kidding me,” she whined and didn’t care how melodramatic she sounded or looked (for which Harry was very grateful—she deserved it).

She slid against the wall and sat on the floor. She pressed her forehead to her knees tucked up to her chest. “My phone’s still in the stairwell,” she mumbled into the knee of her scrubs.

Harry thought about his phone charging in the office in the lobby. He bit the inside of his cheek and pressed the button for emergencies on the button panel. He gave an explanation and details to the little speaker. They assured him someone would be there soon.

He sat back against the wall beside her, so together they formed a corner. For a few moments they sat in silence. But she sniffled a little too loudly, and it simply broke Harry’s heart. “Darling,” Harry whispered.

“You shouldn’t be with me, Harry…” she sniffled again.

His frown deepened and he tilted his head. “Darling—”

“No,” she shook her head and wiped her eyes. “You shouldn’t call me that, it’s… I don’t…” she took a heaving breath. “I’m so much work Harry. And I never stop and you don’t need that and I’m so tired. I just want to sleep in my own bed.”

“You’re not too much work,” he murmured. He put his hand on her knee slowly—a little like she was a wild animal, and he wasn’t sure if she’d bite him. Fortunately, she didn’t. And she didn’t pull away either.

“I really didn’t know Uncle Henry that well. He left me this apartment without explanation. I have no idea why. I’m so grateful. I just want to help as much as I can. I don’t know how else to repay it.”

“You don’t owe anybody anything,” Harry murmured.

“But I do. This place is so fancy and I don’t deserve it. You should have it Harry, really. You work so incredibly hard and you make everyone’s life easier. All I do is bring about bad news after bad news. I suck. I’m a waste. I have all these brains and for what? To tell people that their loved one died of old age? Or a disease that I have no way to cure took them away too soon? That a gunshot wound made them bleed out? A car accident broke their neck? I’m a monster, Harry. A scary monster that children would beg their parents to check under the bed before going to sleep. I ruin people’s days. It’s why I can’t talk about my job, and I just feel like there’s this part of me that I hide all the time. I shouldn’t be called a doctor. Hailey’s right. Doctors help and swear to bring no harm. I don’t even see the people that get the news I deliver. I hide in a morgue and let someone else tell them the bad news. I’m a monster.”

Harry didn’t know how to fix all of that. He didn’t know how she could believe all that after what she did for Mason this evening. “You don’t ruin mine,” he reminded her very quietly.

She sniffled. “I’ve made your life hell since I moved in.”

He shook his head. He couldn’t listen to her like this. “Darling, stop. No, you haven’t.”

“I have. I made you move boxes. I ruined my floors. Mrs. Wentworth—”

“Kitten, Mrs. Wentworth is not the bar you should be comparing yourself to. Please stop.”

“I stayed in the lobby too long. I inserted myself into your office and your apartment. I’m a creepy lonely woman. I basically stalked you.”

He snorted at her exaggeration. “M’honored, darling. Are you done yet?”

“I have done nothing but make your life hell, Harry Styles. Your life was so much better when I wasn’t around.”

“Are you done now?”

“We’re stuck on this elevator because of me. And you can’t even escape my breakdown because we’re trapped and there’s a really good chance no one would look for me because I have done such a good job at making sure people don’t worry about me my entire life. I went to school and worked. I was a pleasure to have in class, and I was used as a physical barrier to separate the bad kids’ seats in elementary school. My parents had me help my siblings with everything. No one ever worried about me because I was going to be fine. Because I’m always fine.”

“Darling, are you done, now?” He asked again.

She swallowed, nodded and pressed her lips together. Harry gently pushed her knees down so he could straddle her legs. He kept most of his weight off her legs but wanted a good look into her eyes. He gently cupped either side of her face and brushed his thumbs on her red-swollen cheeks. She tried to look anywhere but Harry but given the position, it was just about impossible.

He kissed her forehead softly, letting his lips press gently into her skin like all the adoration he had for her would permeate through her skin and skull and into that beautiful brain of hers that had no idea how ridiculous she sounded. After he pulled away, her lower lip quivered and more tears filled her pretty eyes. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip trying to stop it from shaking. “You’d be the first person I’d call if I was downstairs on duty right now.”

She snorted.

“I don’t think you understand,” he stared deeply into her eyes. Harry was so in awe of her, it felt like a horrible time to do all this, but when would there be a good time? He should have told her a hundred times by now. He just hoped that in that beautifully dense brain of hers, she would understand what he was saying because it seemed awfully hard for this beautiful, intelligent woman to understand something so very simple.

“I love you, darling. I loved you from the moment y’told Mrs. Wentworth off that first day and told her I didn’t steal money from her. I’ve loved you every single morning when you brought me coffee or a treat. I’ve loved you while y’sat in the lobby and did nothing. I love that y’feed Leech and y’don’t mind that my apartment is small. I love that y’try t’fix stuff on your own even though y’could have Niall do it. I love that y’treat everyone so nicely—people who don’t deserve your niceness. I love that you’re you. I love your job and I don’t think you’re a monster. I think y’give people closure even though y’never speak t’them. I love that you’re brilliant. I love that you saved Aurelia’s life. I love that you saved Mason’s life. I love that you love Arthur and you even gave Mrs. Wentworth those shoe inserts. I’m sorry you’re having a bad day. But you’re not a monster. You’ve made my days so nice every single day since you’ve been here. There's no way y’could be a monster.”

For several seconds, she was silent, her lip still wobbled and Harry thought she was adorably sweet. “You… you love me?” She whispered.

He smirked at her sadly. “Was it something I said that made you think that?”

She closed her eyes and turned slightly from his gaze. “But…”

“But what, darling? You’re…” he shook his head, turning her face back to look at her. “You’re the coolest person I know.”

“But I have a really weird job and I…” she took a deep breath. “I think I’m invisible.”

“How could you possibly think you’re invisible when m’around, darling? You’re all I see. M’constantly waiting for you t’come back or come down and I think ‘bout you every second you’re gone. M’an absolute mess over you.”

The expression on her face crumpled into a frown and tears. She turned her face away from him and tears spilled rapidly over her lash line and down her cheeks. Harry moved beside her, gently tugged her until she was sitting in his lap and he cradled her because it felt like no one had ever cared for her the way she cared for others. “No one’s ever looked for me,” she whispered.

“M’not sure how that’s possible, darling. But it could never be me,” he kissed her temple and gently rocked her. He could faintly hear sirens and could hear some banging below coming from the elevator control room.

“I love you too, Harry,” she whispered after a few minutes of crying into his chest. “So much.”

He smiled, his heart pounding and spreading warmth throughout his body, “Good,” he nosed softly at her cheek. “Was beginning to think it was in m’head.”

She giggled tearily and lifted her face from his chest to meet his gaze. “I think you’re stuck with me,” she warned, her eyebrows pulling inward just a bit; like she was embarrassed by the fact.

He chuckled, brushed his thumb across her lip. “There is no one I’d rather be stuck with, darling,” he assured her and kissed her softly, finally. After what felt like ages. “Will you please sleep in m’bed tonight?” He asked. He couldn’t take another night without her, but perhaps more importantly, worrying about her neck and back.

She grinned. “Only if you want me to,” she giggled.

He chuckled. “Darling, please,” he shook his head in semi-disbelief. Then softer, with a sad smile on his face, he pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “M’sorry y’didn’t have a good day,” he whispered.

“All my days with you are quite nice, Harry,” she nodded gently, inching closer to his lips until they kissed again. 

If they kissed until the firemen arrived to retrieve them, then that was between them and the elevator walls. 

--

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