Broken || h.s. AU (old version)

Chapter 22- Cracked Toys

Chapter 22 - Cracked Toys

The dull drone of the intercom echoes through the halls, adding to the overall gloomy feel. Nurses and doctors rush about, flitting from room to room as a bee would to flowers. Harry paces in front of me, his tall and looming figure striding back and forth the long room as we waited for the doctor to enter.

Jane and I had tried multiple times to get him to sit down and relax, but it seemed nothing could calm his nerves. Sadness tugs at my heart as I watch him helplessly. His jade eyes flicker around the room like a caged animal. His pace is anxious and I expect any moment for his long legs to fumble over the other and to send him plummeting to the ground. But defying my worries, he continues to pace back and forth.

Back and forth.

It's never-ending.

His right hand is wrapped around his left wrist so tightly his fingertips are beginning to turn purple. He cradles his bloodied hand to his chest, flinching at every sound that echoes through the hospital.

"He should be here, why isn't he in here?" Harry finally speaks, his tone low and raspy, trembling with concealed pain.

"Haz, the ER has more pressing cases than a cut hand. Just give him time..." Jane tries to soothe, watching as he paces the room with worried eyes.

"It hurts!" He hisses under his breath, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth. His lip is beginning to swell with all the brawn Harry had brought upon it in the last half hour. By now his lower cheek was colored purple, the edges of the dark bruise speckled with maroon as it faded to a painful pink. His injured hand trembles, scarlet pulsing steadily from the breaks in his otherwise smooth skin.

When finally the door swings open. Harry's eyes flicker to the door immediately and his teeth finally release his throbbing lip. He walks to the examination table with a rushed grace, sitting on the edge as the doctor walks in.

The man that walks in looks in his twenties, tawny hair slicked back neatly. His light blue eyes quickly assess Harry's hand as he walks over to him, gently prying away Harry's trembling hand from the other wrist. Harry is glaring daggers at him, obviously irritated with the prolonged wait we'd endured.

The room is silent as the young doctor examines the gashes that litter

Harry's palms. And finally he speaks up in a warm, friendly voice.

"I'm Doctor Turner, but you can call me Travis."

He gives a smile to Harry, glancing back to Jane and I with a quick nod as he looks back at Harry.

"Or I can call you late." Harry mutters, jaw set angrily.

"Harry." Jane and I scold simultaneously.

I don't blame him, he has a bit of a temper and he's in pain, but I'm still embarrassed at his immature comment. Travis gives a bit of an apologetic smile, bravely meeting Harry's eyes.

"I'm sorry you had to wait... But you should consider yourself lucky. Not all the patients have two beautiful women to keep them calm through their accidents." He glances over his shoulder at Jane and I with a playful wink, chuckling to himself.

I can't fight back the smile that makes its way onto my lips. Harry gives a quick glare over the young man's shoulder. And I know he doesn't say it, but I can practically hear the irritated mutter "Don't encourage him." I roll my eyes at Harry and he huffs quietly, looking down at the injured hand he has carefully rested on his knee.

Jane's chair squeaks quietly as she gets to her feet. "Haz, I'm gonna go take care of the medical bills and I'm gonna get something for us to eat in case this takes a while."