Inherent

“So as long as you take your medication, you should be okay?” Harry poses his first real question when the emergency room’s doctor leaves for a moment. A nurse has just dropped off a cup of water and an Advil for the constant ache that is still present, over an hour later. I swirl the small cup of water while the tablet rests innocently in my hand. While it may still be there, the sudden sharp throbbing that came on without warning has faded. It makes me wonder about the doctor’s diagnosis of a mild concussion.

Instead of arguing, however, my attention remains on Harry. Throughout this whole time, he hasn’t left my side. Even now he sits with me on the hospital bed, its paper sheet mussed under our weight. After I swallow the pill he takes the cup and sets it aside, and I have to smile at his attentiveness before answering his question.

The only time he let go of my hand was when I was momentarily whisked off for several tests, and other than that, he kept the quiet promise he made outside in the fading light.

He won’t let go.

“Pretty much. I, um… I kind of forgot to take them, for maybe the last couple of days I think.”

Or somewhere around there, at least. My short term memory is still fuzzy, and I still find it hard to concentrate on anything at all, a product of the concussion everyone seems sure that I have. When the doctor asked me what day it is, it took me several moments to produce an answer.

Harry’s eyes narrow at my vague response, and I continue to ramble out the hurried explanation before he can voice his annoyance. “Which is the only reason why I think this happened. But I’ll always remember from now on. I promise.”

It all comes out in an even faster rush when I see the anger present in his eyes at the news, at neglecting perhaps one of the few things that work perfectly to keep me alive.

“You better,” he says lowly, causing me to squirm slightly. “I’ll remind you every day if I have to. That wasn’t smart, Jules.”

“I know, but you don’t have to worry. I’ll be better with it.”

Finally, after giving me another stern once over he sighs in relent and pulls me closer, into his side. His hand untangles from mine and he raises it to place on my chest, over my heart and the pendant that rests there. The warmth his touch brings is welcomed, refreshing, and totally electrifying.

“I’ll get you one of those tablet organizers that elders use,” he jokes, apparently finding the correlation between me and the elderly to be amusing.

I have to laugh, too. It feels good to after they day we’ve had. “It’s only one a day. I’ll manage, I swear.”

“All this time,” he says quietly after a brief pause, expelling a soft breath that tickles my ear from his close proximity. “This is what you’ve been keeping from me?”

He pulls back to watch me nod in slight confusion, since he makes it sound as though I’ve done the most trivial thing ever. To me, though, it feels huge. And rightfully so—this isn’t something that goes way, and it’s also something that people are capable of reacting negatively to. They have.

He shakes his head in quiet dismay. “You silly girl.”

I bring my own hand up to rest it over his, still at my chest, and while at ease I can almost feel my heart beat underneath his hand. As though his touch gives it strength, too.

“You’re sure this doesn’t change anything?”

Abrupt, Harry sits up straight and stares me at me for a long, grueling moment, touch having dropped at his action. I resist the suddenly clingy urge that comes out of nowhere to reach for his hand again, knowing he needs to talk. His next question is posed with disbelief. “Why on earth would it?”

Pausing, it’s hard to find the right words. To be totally truthful with him, without scaring him away. Ever observant, he takes note of my hesitation straight away.

“Talk to me.”

Still resisting the innate need to feel him close, I instead reach up to grasp the pendant, only able to look in his general direction.

“This just isn’t something that’s going to go away, Harry,” I manage, tracing along the stiches which bind together each piece of the heart and its smooth wood underneath.

“I’m aware…” he replies slowly, warily, suspicious already.

“And this is something we can’t forget. I have to live with this forever.”

“We will,” he corrects, headstrong and sure as ever. “We’ll do it together.”

I chew on my lip and look down. Could he be serious? For so long now it’s just been me. Julia, all alone, me against the world. The idea of Harry considering himself to be so tightly involved in every aspect of my life that he would bind himself in the constant struggle I fight with myself, with my heart, is absurd. But I want to believe it. So badly.

“Julia,” he calls my attention back sharply. When all he receives is a sad, timid glance, his thumb swoops under my chin to tilt my head up, looking totally confident and wholly unimpressed. “Listen to me. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, than how sure I am about you.”

I smile wryly, the tears I was on the verge of letting slip receding.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he finishes cheekily, fingers now caressing my jawline as he leans forward to press a soft kiss to my cheek. Then he spares just one look down at my chest, at the pendant, now seeing the true meaning it has to me.

“It’s just one small part of you…” he begins after slowly lowering his hand from my cheek, and shakes his head when I open my mouth to interrupt. “That’s all it is, Jules. It doesn’t make you who you are, not anymore. Because you are so much more than that.”

The revelation floors me. In all the years of living with this condition, not once did this thought cross my mind. My disorder always defined me, like how a person might have a favorite pair of shoes or a certain hairstyle everyone knows them for. Something their friends, when asked about the one most recognizable thing about them, spit out.

Well, I’ve had my disorder.

It set me apart, it is what made me feel abnormal; what made growing up without a father harder than it already should have bee. And not once, through it all, though isolating myself and feeling beneath everybody, did anyone ever tell me this. Not even myself.

Then Harry comes along and in mere minutes of full discovering my disorder, he manages to look past it, see me as being more, see me as a person. Which is something I haven’t even really been able to accomplish either.

Without wasting another second I nearly launch my upper body toward him, so much it makes him rear back and break out into a quiet, amused chuckle as his arms snake around my waist to hold me close. The headache is forgotten, my heart no longer feels like a huge barrier between us, and I just want to hug him as long as I can.

Countless times today I have crashed into him and he has caught me with ease and grace and acceptance, and the calming effects he has on me still haven’t faded even a bit. I continue to hold him as close as humanly possible, desperate to show just how much I appreciate him even being here, still, when he should have run away long ago.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me,” I tell him sincerely.

He means the world. The entirety of the world, and then some.

And he might not ever know how much he really has changed my life, a thousand times over, but I owe him so much. The thing about Harry, though, is that he makes me feel as though he doesn’t need anything in return for his huge heart, his never ending kindness and patience.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me,” he counters, easily returning my embrace. “You amaze me every single day, Jules.”

I draw back, smiling up at him almost goofily as we hear nurses and other hospital staff mill about beyond our curtain of much needed privacy in the emergency room. These small moments to ourselves, like right now, are the very glue that has held me together for the past hour of poking and prodding. It’s been difficult not to feel like some strange science experiment or an oddity here for the doctors to study, but Harry’s quiet reassurance helps me to see past how things look to me on the surface.

“I still can’t believe you felt like you couldn’t tell me this,” he mutters in astonishment but there is no anger behind the remark, and I remain relaxed at his side. “You can talk to me about anything. Keeping it from me only made things worse, put your health at risk,” he chides disapprovingly. It’s hard not to feel like a misbehaving child being lectured, but Harry needs to let this out, and god knows I need to hear it too.

“I could have done something mistakenly, something that could have hurt you, and I’d never forgive myself.”

“No—no, Harry. I’m a total idiot for not telling you, I am. And I’m so freaking sorry… but please, don’t think like that. Hardly anyone knows I have this, and I’ve been fine for years. Please don’t treat me like some fragile thing. I won’t break, I promise.”

He chews on his lip in contemplation. Being aware of how protective he has been toward me in the past, I know it’s going to take a while for him to understand this. And I’m going to have to grit my teeth and endure it because if he had been informed sooner, we could have gotten this worried phase over with long ago. It wouldn’t even be right of me to demand that he treat me totally normally after what he witnessed today. Just from what took place in the elevator, I know he is beyond shaken.

After another moment of consideration, he decides. “I won’t treat you differently if you stop endangering yourself.”

Endangering yourself. Is that really what I did? To anyone hearing this, however, hearing that I have this disorder… and that I sometimes choose not to forget to take the medication needed to control it effectively… well, it looks bad. Really bad, and very reckless indeed. Endangering.

“Of course,” I agree automatically, voice seeming to echo as I continue to reel slightly from the shock of this new revelation. I really have been so selfish—it never occurred to me the affect it would have on others should something happen to me. Especially from my own neglect; it almost feels the same as intentionally harming myself. Thankfully, it hasn’t and will not ever get that far. Since I am familiar with the feeling of intense loss and grief as well, the thought of putting that on anyone else through reckless actions is totally paralyzing.

“Look at me,” he says suddenly, but quiet enough to avoid frightening me in my still slightly disoriented state. The world still spins a little as I turn my head to look up to him, but not nearly as much as it did just an hour ago. It is instinctual, too, second nature to tilt my head up and take in his solemn, firm expression. It allows me to see exactly how serious he is being about this, how much I scared him, and I feel terrible.

“Promise me,” he orders quietly, not begging, not a request. He needs this from me, and I highly doubt he would let me leave the room until he hears me say the words, the determined glint in his green gaze obvious under the hospital’s harsh florescent lights making it obvious.

What’s one more promise—one I will keep—to add to the rest? It also goes hand in hand with my vow to Harry that he would never lose me, in any sense of the word. When I made that promise I didn’t meant just leaving him when things get rough, as heart wrenching and hard as it was to even do that once in the first place, but also physically. Health wise. I can give him this, and I want to give him everything. I desperately want for him to be happy, to have the chance to be the carefree, cheeky man he was when we first met. There are still glimpses of that person, even just now, but it’s impossible for him to be that way amidst all this chaos. I want to give him the normalcy we used to manage.

I want to give him my all.

“I promise.” Meaning every single bit of what I say, I nod once, confidently. “I’ll never skip a dose ever again.”

After observing me for a few minutes, perhaps to judge my truthfulness, Harry breaks into a soft, adoring, and relieved smile. He leans to deliver a slow kiss to the corner of my mouth. He remains close, the slight stubble on his chin tickling my sensitive skin as he sighs quietly, still smiling. “That’s my girl.”

Whenever he says this, no matter how sporadic or if it’s over the simplest of things, it spreads an unfathomable amount of warmth through my heart. I can’t help the full on cheesy grin that spreads across my face in response.

During the last few moments before the doctor returns, having been gone for nearly ten minutes now, I relish it and nuzzle into the crook of his neck, at peace despite everything that is so, so wrong, despite where we are right now.

“On one condition,” he tacks it on casually, so much so it takes me a moment to realize just what he is referring to. His earlier vow not to treat me like any different than how he always has. Instantly regaining my full attention, I tilt my head up to see his expression, which remains light and nonthreatening while I continue to rest contentedly against his shoulder, waiting.

“And what’s that?” Only at my soft questioning does he form a breathing smile, and he leans to gently connect his mouth to mine again, in a soft and innocent kiss. But I sense a hint of something more as he smirks against my mouth, of playfulness and sensuality. Heat floods my body as I find myself immediately responding, molding my mouth against his as my hand travels to his shoulder, feeling the muscle contract as he pulls me closer to rest most of my weight on him.

“That, for tonight, you let me treat you like a princess, let me baby you… without a single complaint,” he adds when I instantly react by trying to object. My heart warms even more at his supposed condition, and the smile that remains is unable to be helped. Maybe, tonight, I can relinquish the independence developed over the years and let Harry do this his way. The notion, admittedly, is tempting.

I hum playfully, pursing my lips as I pretend to consider his idea, and the corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens at the sight of me.

After the day that I’ve had, I find it hard to blame myself for wanting this. Though if I were to be honest I probably don’t have much a say in the matter—not from the quiet, heated spark that ignites his jade eyes.

“Come on,” he coaxes playfully, finger trailing up my side in a feather light, tickling trace. “Let me take care of you.”

“Okay,” I breathe without much more thought, biting my lip as I quickly turn shy. What thought is there to give when this makes him so happy? The only worrying thing about it is what I’ve just signed myself up for. From the coy smirk he still wears to the flirty, husky tone he uses to totally enchant me, it must not be very many of the innocent possibilities floating around in my head.

Right now, the fear that he isn’t taking my disorder as seriously as he should—in that it is dangerous and I can’t understand why on earth he would want to be with me—it doesn’t matter, because I have finally told him. There’s nothing left to hide, and I feel freer than I have in years. Perhaps Harry taking the news lightly is better than the alternative. The one where he is sickened by my lies and unaccepting of my broken heart… the one where he doesn’t stay.

Eventually, however, when all this is over, I have to make him see the disorder for what it is: life changing, life ending, terrifying, and for me, disabling.

My eyes flit down as I lightly take hold of the collar of his shirt, feeling a little flustered and embarrassed now at what tonight might hold, before looking back up. His expression has softened further at my timid reaction.

“Only for tonight though, right?” I force myself to ask, still playful, and refuse to back down.

“Hmm…” he trails off teasingly. “Is it so wrong for me to want to spoil you every day and night?”

“Well, no…” My agreement surprises him, and he chuckles. While I may be only joking around, I understand because I feel the exact same for him. “But I just don’t want you worrying about me too much.”

“It would be impossible for me to do that,” he objects. “You’re all that matters to me.”

I practically melt right here on the spot, and find it hard to see anything past the intensity in his eyes, past the passion he speaks with that echoes through my mind. It’s even harder not to kiss him again, this time in much more explicit lock, which would be totally inappropriate while we are sitting in the emergency room waiting for the doctor’s final verdict. She should be back any minute now, and theoretically Harry and I should be able to keep our hands off each other at least until we are done here. Reminding myself of where we are does some good in helping me maintain control.

Whatever happened to the shy, bashful girl afraid to show any sort of public display of affection is beyond me… or, well, Harry. Harry is what happened to me.

It proves harder still not to simply drop the subject altogether and let him have his way, but I can’t let him go on thinking I need or want to be treated this way for any length of time.

“This has happened before,” I remind him hesitantly and look around, referring to this hospital visit. To fainting. To scaring the living daylights out of others. “And I’ve gotten through it. I’ll be okay.”

He doesn’t falter, jaw set in determination, and I see clearly now that this is a losing battle. When it comes to things like this he never lets me win. Not when it comes to him being totally adorable, and me being totally weak for it. If he worded all of his arguments in this way, I’d be an utter mess. An agreeable mess.

In fact I find it difficult to even protest at all, wishing I never brought this up, that I had let us continue in our little bubble of happiness before it is burst totally by reality.

“You will be okay,” he agrees easily, charismatic down to the last molecule of his being. “But you won’t be alone this time. I won’t let you be. So I suggest you quit your bickering, because from here on out you won’t be lifting a finger.”

With one more look at him, at the determination setting his eyes alight and how he speaks in utter confidence, I decide to give in. Finally. I can’t remember what it was like to be treated like a princess, as Harry claims will happen, but if I stop questioning it every moment perhaps will be nice.

It will be, I know, and still wonder exactly what he could have in mind.

“You’re not listening,” comes my stubborn reply, but I hold a hand up before he can argue further. “But alright, okay. As long as we go home soon.”

He nods, having looked twice as riled up before I impishly continued. “That, I can promise you. As soon as we’re done here.”

“Good,” I sigh, not quite sure what we’re going to do once we are, finally, home. Only because Harry’s house is still foreign to me, having refused to spend any large amount of time. That of course is pretty well my fault. His home is safe, though, and safe is exactly what I need. It will be nice to be able to take a deep breath and not fear for my life, as dramatic as that may sound.

While still tired and feeling off from fainting and hitting my head, I feel absolutely wired from all that has happened today. It’s doubtful that I will get to sleep at any time in the near future.

Temporarily, I decide to stop trying. Trying to make Harry see my disorder in its full light—if he doesn’t already—and decide that the rest really can wait. At least until we get home and I feel a little more comfortable with our surroundings. Because the hospital isn’t helping me relax by any means, only serving to amp me up even more. Hopefully soon the adrenaline still coursing through my system with fade, and then I can finally rest my overworked body and mind.

Soon after we come to our agreement, the curtain is quickly pulled over and the emergency doctor glides through, smiling with my file in hand. Her cheerful attitude aids in my trying to remain calm. From past experience, doctors haven’t brought me the best of news, and it is now instinctual for me to become nervous in their presence.

“Well, you got yourself a mild concussion,” Doctor Carroll confirms our worries with a flippant explanation, and our reaction is just as lax. Thankfully. The last thing we need is to worry over this, too. I remind myself that things could be much, much worse.

Having had far too many close calls today… from nearly walking in on a burglar to my heart malfunctioning, my brushes with possible death make a mild concussion appear to be the best news received throughout it all.

Now, I just want to go home to the safety of Harry’s apartment. Of his arms.

God, nothing else could ever sound as good.

“You need to rest,” she looks me in the eye, seriously now, and speaks pointedly.

As he has been the entire time, Harry listens intently to the doctor, surely committing everything she says to memory.

“Rest is the best way for your brain to heal. Physically and mentally.” I nod when she pauses to see if I have been listening. “So that means you should not be driving for the next twenty four hours or so. No exercise. No lifting things heavier than a book. Just don’t strain yourself.”

“And if you have work tomorrow, take that off too. I can write you a note for that. Try to limit TV, using a computer, reading. Anything that requires mental concentration.”

“I can do that…” I say, trailing off to look at Harry for support. For the next day, it sounds like I will be totally helpless. And bored… but not if Harry has anything to say about it. He doesn’t seem perturbed in the slightest by the fact that I will be practically bed ridden.

“You should. Since it only seems mild, your symptoms should disappear totally within two days, and then you can gradually resume your regular level of activity. If your symptoms don’t go away within that time, though, come back and see me. Alright?”

Lord, I hope they do. I don’t want to feel like more of a burden to Harry for any longer than I absolutely have to.

“Umm—okay.”

“Oh, one more thing,” she smiles reassuringly at the sight of my starting to become overwhelmed. Next to me Harry senses how tense I’ve gone as well and his hand moves from leaning against the bed to trail up the small of my back soothingly. I try hard to relax. “To avoid any possible complications, when you go to sleep tonight you should wake up every couple of hours.”

I knew this already, about concussions, because Caleb suffered one in hockey when we were kids. They say you should be woken every so often so you don’t fall into a coma, which is a terrifying possibility. It seems sure now that I won’t be getting to sleep any time soon, or rather I will avoid it for as long as possible.

The pressure of Harry’s hand at my back increases slightly as he surely thinks the same thing. He otherwise doesn’t react, taking it all in stride and giving me strength to do the same.

She goes on to recommend over the counter pain medication if my headache returns or increases at all in terms of pain, and just when I think that I can make my escape once and for all, never to return to this godforsaken hospital for as long as I can, she pauses. Her smile turns sheepish. “One more thing, before I forget. I promise.”

A bad feel creeps over me and I slowly turn back to the doctor, Harry’s hand holding tight to my waist now as I was just about to jump down from the bed. Another nervous glance is sent to him, and he nods reassuringly. I expel the breath I subconsciously held. “I just noticed you’re several months past due on your annual tests. It would be a good idea to get those done as soon as possible. There’s a new resident cardiologist, and I want to refer you to him. He specializes in similar disorders.”

“Um…” I don’t know what to say, utterly caught in what I previously thought were all my sneaky ways of pretending I was perfectly healthy. And not only that, but I’ve had the same cardiologist since moving here as a child. Would it be uncomfortable to see someone new, someone foreign? It’s difficult for me to trust my health with people I don’t know.

But Harry interjects before I have the chance to form a coherent reply, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. Oh, crap. “Past due?”

“It was during finals,” is my sheepish defense. “I was really busy and it slipped my mind.”

Of course it didn’t. While Doctor Carroll smiles easily because she doesn’t know me like Harry does, he doesn’t buy it at all. He shakes his head at me in quiet dismay, frown deepening. It almost hurts to see how much this, right now, affects him, to see that he is disappointed in me for something I could have easily gotten done, but was too much of a coward to face. Before tonight I hardly even thought of the fact that I missed these tests, having all come out normal for the last few years. Or what is considered normal given my circumstances. But Harry doesn’t know this, and he is certainly entitled to thinking that I’m insane not to do these things after what he witnessed today.

Aside from his distaste for how I handle my disorder, though, he has taken this all remarkably well. He didn’t flinch before when I riddled off the name of my medication to the doctors, not when I had to describe my symptoms before I fainted, and not when I was asked to name the events that triggered it. I cited my house being broken into as the main stressor, opting out of placing the blame on any one person. Especially when it comes to Harry, because none of this is his fault.

In fact, he remains my one steady rock and I am positive that I wouldn’t be able to get through any of this without him… not without his steady presence next to me, side pressed close to mine, not without the constant support of his hand holding mine every time the chance arises. Not without the small kisses and embraces he stole during the short moments we were alone.

So of course I feel particularly awful when he continues to frown, but says nothing for the moment. I’m certain this isn’t the last I’ll hear about it though, knowing Harry and how he never lets anything go. Not when it comes to me being an idiot, which is what all this adds up to.

“You should get that scheduled as soon as possible, then,” he mutters in displeasure.

Unable to handle the intensity of his gaze I discreetly glance back to the doctor, forcing a strained smile. No doubt he knows exactly what I’m trying to do—avoiding his wrath for as long as possible. Since I have been so used to being totally carefree and totally happy around Harry, and him being the same, this is new. I don’t like it when he is mad at me and it isn’t something I am capable of fixing somehow.

“Definitely a good idea,” Doctor Carroll agrees easily. “I’ll set up an initial appointment for you to meet with him, and you should be all set to go.”

My expression brightens at this, and temporarily pushing aside Harry’s disapproval, I smile at her. Finally no one protests when I reach to grab my bag, hands still shaking a little from nerves.

“But remember, take it easy. No extreme sports, operating heavy machinery, that sort of things.” She grins, and now my smile isn’t so forced.

“I get the feeling your boyfriend will be managing your rest pretty well, though,” she says, nodding to Harry. “Handled this stuff like a champ, didn’t you?”

Yes, he did. She isn’t even aware that he is hearing all of this for the first time.

“Yeah,” Harry replies, accent evident while he tugs me closer after standing along with me, always there in case I take another graceless dive to the floor. Though visibly unimpressed with me still I feel much better, secure, while tucked safely into his side.

With him, I have this innate sense of belonging—a feeling I have never found before anywhere else. “I don’t plan on letting her out of my sight.”

The possessive remark, spoken lightly and with jest so the doctor only laughs, causes me to wonder just how joking or really serious Harry may be right now.

She slides the curtain back over to allow us through, and continues to chuckle, not realizing how serious Harry is really being.

I swallow nervously and smile, anyway, pausing before I leave. Harry glances down at me in question when I turn back to the doctor, but waits with me, hand still placed securely at my back.

“Thank you,” I say sincerely, meaning it. With her pleasant attitude, she made my brief visit here a little less painful.

She shakes her head. “It’s no problem. Doctor Nichols should be in contact with you very soon.”

Maybe this is a good thing, I think optimistically as we leave. My usual cardiologist is an older man, and some of his practices were admittedly a little outdated. Heck, I’m pretty sure he retired, which is the only reason no one has called or pressed to have the tests done when they were supposed to. This new doctor might be able to help me more.

Because while I absolutely loathe talking to others about my heart, if there are better options out there… ones which would allow me to lead an even more normal life, then I have nothing to lose. It is obviously an opportunity I should jump for.

Hope springs to life within me at these new possibilities—Doctor Carroll seemed oddly enthusiastic about this new person, and while trying not to get my hopes up only to be disappointed, I find myself in much higher spirts leaving the hospital than when I entered. And that is utterly unexpected.

So much has come of this; Harry knows. He is finally, fully informed, and he still stands here beside me. Albeit a little peeved for reasons I couldn’t have predicted, but here all the same. A new, possibly better doctor has come to the city. I know the protruding bump on the back of my head isn’t life threatening, and now Harry can relax.

Mission accomplished.

I can finally breathe.

Notes

So much has been discussed, and there's still much more to come! There's a little drama sprinkled throughout these next few chapters but of course I can't tell you much, just that things get very interesting and Harry and Julia finally spend some time together :) There will be lots of fluff and intimate moments and I seriously can't wait for you to read it. I *do* have the next chapter already finished again, so please leave a comment if you'd like to read it!

Okay, shortly after I posted the last chapter I found out that Inherent has been nominated for not one, but two Wallflower 1DFF awards. 'Best AU' and 'Most Unique' are the categories it has been nominated in, and I would just like to send a huge thank you to the kind person(s) who did this! If you have a moment to spare, it would mean the absolute world to me if you clicked the link below and cast a vote. Thank you!

As always, thank you for reading, subscribing, and commenting :)

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