Within the Script (A Stanathan Fanfiction)

Chapter Ten: Past Midnight

"Molly, what's fair is fair. The boys backed out on tonight and you are already going to be here alone tomorrow. I should take care of him tonight," Stana debated with the kid in front of her. It was one of the few downsides to having to be watched twenty-four/seven. Nathan needed someone to stay with him, and after having gone out to the bar with their wives, Jon and Seamus were too plastered to be able to watch him.

Still, Molly was arguing with Stana on who should stay and who shouldn't because, while it was true Molly would be there for the entire time tomorrow and Stana would be absent, Molly felt guilty about sleeping most of the day away when she knew Stana hadn't rested for a second. "Come on, I'll be fine! And besides, you need your sleep if you're going to be out with your sister all day tomorrow."

Stana smiled and shook her head. "Gigi's been dying to meet Nathan anyway. She's sick of only knowing him as that guy I snog on set. This seriously wouldn't be a problem." Molly didn't seem to fully believe the woman before her, but she stopped trying to argue what was fair. Besides, Nathan was asleep. There was a comfy guest bedroom right next door to his. This wasn't going to be much of an issue for Stana, considering she already had her sister bringing clothes over for her. With only a slight delay, Molly was convinced and let Stana spend the night as she clearly wanted.

Once Molly was out the door, Stana locked up, turned out the front lights and started into the separate guest bathroom where she washed up, stripped down to the T-shirt Nathan had left and the lace thong she'd worn with her jeans and cozied up in bed. It took a bit of getting used to, as the matress was much softer than she would care for, but she was relaxed and surrounded by a midnight paradise.

She had been sleeping hard when she was suddenly aroused by a loud, drawn out, "Help!" Her body shot into motion without a second thought in her mind. When she flew into Nathan's room to find he was on the floor, hands interlaced, pressure applied to the furthest injury to the back of his skull. She was at his side the second she could be, the sight of blood on his fingers dropping her heart to her stomach.

As she took his head into her lap, she questioned, "God, Nathan, what happened?"

With seering pain radiating through his skull, he was barely able to say, "I fell," as she picked up the phone.

Before dialing the number she badly wanted to dial, she asked him to, "Move your hands."

"I can't," he muscled out.

"I have to see it, Nathan," she demanded. His hands didn't move. She got tired of waiting and rolled him onto his uninjured side. His hands loosened and she pried them to open enough to where she could see that he's done nothing more than slit his palm. The blood wasn't even from his head. The shooting pain was likely because he hadn't taken his medication when he should have.

A half an hour later, once the bleed had stopped and the meds had taken affect, she finished her chat with his doctor and was certain he would be fine as long as he stuck with that medication. He was apologetic almost instantly, but more so about scaring her than for not listening. He never meant to scare her or wake her up or do anything to make her feel anything but happiness or amusement or obtain some kind of positive result. "You don't need to apologize, Nathan. This is what I'm here for."

He laughed, "No, my amassed video game collection, the horrific contents of my fridge and my giant poster of Darth Maul are supposed to scare you. Not my screaming in the middle of the night."

"Yeah, well," Stana smiled, "I'm just glad you're alright."

"I'm just glad my head isn't screwing up again," he stated, raising his brow.

Stana smiled, "Yeah, dealing with Richard Castle for a week got a little annoying. I'm not sure how Beckett does it."

"As I recall, you didn't seem to mind too much," he grinned.

Her eyes widened. "You remember all of that?"

"By all of that do you mean I remembed how kind you were, how hard you tried to reboot my memory and how you gave up a role you were so excited for in order to help me?" Her eyes had retreated from his as she bit back on her lip, swallowing hard. "I never did thank you, Stana. No one has ever been so kind to me before. No one's cared so much about me before. You are- absolutely incredible and you didn't have to do what you did, but you did. So, thank you, Stana. Thank you for being such an astounding person."

Once again, silence filled the air as Stana's eyes rejoined his in a look of absolute adoration, a blushing smile dawned on Stana's face. The two simply took each other's souls in as they breathed in the scents that lingered. Beyond the smell of his Old Spice body wash, which both had used, they could still pick up on each other's familiar aromas. They knew each other inside and out, and everything about the other seemed right to the one doing the analyzing. It wasn't even a conscious action as they watched each other's movements for the second time that day. This time, however, Stana didn't feel the need to straighten up and fly away. Instead, Nathan caught her eyes wandering down to his lip for a moment and then coming straight back to his eyes. This time, Nathan got cold feet.

"Stana," he said in a soft whisper, eyes never leaving hers.

The woman gently questioned, "Yeah, Nathan?"

"You-... You are...," he tried desperately to get the words out, but his fears and doubt concured over his desire. "We can't do this."

She blinked. All it took was a blink and her widened pupils shrunk. "Can't- can't do... yeah, no, I know. I'm just- I'm just tired. We're both just... tired."

He could see the instant pain in her eyes as she drew back. "It's not that I don't want to. I mean- I just-..."

"No, Nathan, I get it. You're right. This is- for the best," she stated solemnly. "You just broke up with Christina and Kris just left. You're barely out of the hospital and on heavy medication. And- we're just friends. That's all we've ever been and will ever be. I mean- that's what's for the best, right?"

His heart was breaking. He felt as though he was losing something, something he never had. "I guess."

"This is just fatigue and leftover emotions from the hospital," she lied.

"Yeah," he shrugged in depression.

Her head weakly nodded as her voice was barely audible in saying a depressed, "Yeah" She then lifted herself off the barstool and took his face in her hands, laying a typical, gentle, near meaningless kiss on his cheek before telling him, "Goodnight, Nathan. Sleep well." She then gracefully withdrew back into the bedroom, her back turned from him so as to hide her injured glazed over eyes from his notice. Behind a closed door, she placed her back to the door, breathing in to steady her nerves and then falling into bed. At least there, the few tears that would slip from her lashes would go silently unnoticed by the world.