Within the Script (A Stanathan Fanfiction)

Chapter Eight: Recovering

Stana didn't go back. She couldn't. Not after that day. Not after saying everything she said, hearing everything she heard and doing-... doing what felt so right but what she knew was so wrong. She didn't want to go back. Not if it meant seeing Nathan again and having to know what they did. Instead, she asked the boys how Nathan was and if he was getting better. They generally took pictures with him for twitter and sent them to her directly.

The swelling in his eye had gone down immensely and his bruising was starting to dissapear. His ribs were also healing well, according to the doctor. Lack of movement was helping a lot. And the swelling in his brain was going down quite well. According to the boys, he was starting to sound and act more like himself. He was starting to believe and accept that he wasn't a T.V character. He wasn't one hundred percent back to normal, but he was close to it.

Jon and Seamus didn't hesitate on telling her, "He's asking for you," however. Every time she heard it, mixed reactions filled her fully. Parts of her wanted to run back to see him because he was her friend and that was the right thing to do. Other pieces of her knew that he was better off without her for now. Some fought to tell Stana she hadn't done anything wrong and she shouldn't feel guilty, but her shame and regret disagreed. She didn't go back. Not for three days. Not until she got Seamus' phone call.

"Stana," he said on the other end, "He's back. Nathan's back. He knows who he is. You have to get down here."

She couldn't believe it. She wasn't sure she could really trust Seamus in the moment. "Are you sure?"

"I'm certain," Seamus said, causing Stana to come to believe him. "Look, he's asking for you, and- I think you should get down here."

A smile had grown over her lips at the thought of her friend being back. Her voice was mildly choked out, tears causing her eyes to look like glass as she forced herself to lightly tell him, "Yeah, I'll- I'll be there as soon as I can."

He heard her reaction, but didn't comment. Instead, he waited for her to get to the hospital. The moment he saw her, seeing the obvious signs that she'd nearly ran here from her car, he told her, "He's waiting for you."

She swallowed hard, chest feeling both restricted and tight, but in the best way possible. He moved out of her way and allowed her to head straight through the door. As her hand gently pushed the knob through to the other side, her eyes were sent straight toward the bed, directly to his, linking in place and refusing to move from him. The moment he saw her, he whispered her name, the sound so sweet it was like no other word she had ever heard. "Stana."

In a breath, she had to question, "Nathan?"

"Who else would I be?" His constant gentle smile, his tone, his eyes, even as much as his unmoving motions were his own. Seeing him, knowing it was him, knowing she had him back gave way for a single tear to fall flat against her cheek as she flew toward him, unable to stand another moment of being as far from him as she felt.

As her body crashed into his right side and her arms flew around him, his too came around her and pulled her in as tightly as he could. She couldn't stop words from flying out of her mouth. "I can't believe it's really you."

"It's me, Stana. I swear," he told her.

"I- I thought-," she didn't know how to explain how she had been sure she would never get the old Nathan back. She didn't know how to explain the fear that had encased her when she thought she might never be able to see her friend again or have his words and kindness and soul back. She needed their history, his understanding, his thorough knowledge of who she was the way she knew him. She didn't know how to explain to him how scared she was that he wouldn't be back again, but- she didn't have to.

Instead, as Nathan held her, he knew every thought that had been barreling through her head. "I know, Stana. I know."

As she pulled away from him, tears weighing her lashes down, she smiled and told him, "You keep saying my name."

"I know," he answered, wiping a tear from her cheek as his hand rose to hold her face still. "I just- forgot how much it meant to me until now." A sweet laugh passed from her lungs as she found solace in his familiar hold over her cheek. As she nussled into the stroke for a moment, she couldn't get the feeling of him out of her mind. Her hand then came up to the back of his, and she pulled the hold from her cheek into her hands once more, tears subsiding as she watched his finally familiar gaze overtake her and wrap around her warmly.

The two of them stayed for a moment longer before the sound of the doorknob twisting again brought Stana to turn around, dropping her hands just as Molly showed her bright orange locks through the crack. A single step took Stana out of the way as Molly too came rushing into her pseudo-father's arms. He told her too how much he missed her, overuse of her name not existent between the two of them. The moment they pulled apart, Molly looked back at Stana, both of them thoroughly thrilled, unsure of what they were supposed to say. Nathan just stared, his eyes meeting both women's eyes before he asked, "So... did I get the fandom to blow up Twitter?"