Sean rolled over onto his back and pressed his palms into his eyes. The phone vibrated incessantly on his bedside table. It was still mostly dark outside. It better be a goddamned emergency, whoever it is, he thought to himself. As he reached for the phone, he sensed a vast openness next to him. Where’s Harper? He was instantly awake.

He didn’t recognize the number, but scrambled to answer it. “Hello?” he asked.

“Sean? It’s P, Harper’s friend.”

“Are you with her?” he asked. “Where are you? What time is it?” Before P could answer, he lowered the phone to check the time. Four o’clock in the morning.

“She’s okay,” P said. “At least, the last I was told. “I took her to Cedars-Sinai.”

“You took her? When? We were asleep—”

“She called me a couple of hours ago to come pick her up.”

“What? Why did she call you? She was right here—”

“Look, I don’t really know about that. I told her to wake you up, I told her to tell you, but you know how she can be. She told me she left you a note.”

“A note? Why—what happened? What’s wrong?” Sean bolted from bed and began to pull on a pair of jeans in the dark, the phone cradled precariously under his chin.

“I haven’t been told much, and I won’t be since I’m not family. But she’s fine, and from what I understand the baby is fine. At least for now, but it’s something to do with the pregnancy.”

“You know about the baby?” Sean stopped his struggle with the balled-up jeans and stood still.

“I think I’m the only one she told besides you,” P said gently. “I don’t want to come down on you right now, and I know Harper’s told me you’ve been doing a lot better with the whole normie thing of monogamy or whatever, but you need to figure your shit out.”

“I’m trying,” Sean said. He put down the phone briefly to pull on a t-shirt.

“ … how rare what you’ve got it? She shouldn’t have to feel like she needs to call me in a crisis. You need to man up and be whatever she needs so she feels safe with you.”

“I know, I know,” Sean said. “I’m going to lose you in the stairwell. I’m coming now.”

“Yeah, well,” P said with a huff in his voice. “I’ll be here.”

Sean raced through the night. As he whipped into the parking lot, the morning sun had just started to struggle up the horizon. He saw P as soon as he walked in, draped in a black leather ensemble with his chest drenched in glitter. “Don’t ask,” P said, as he stood up to give Sean a brief hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Are … one of you the father?” Sean turned around to see a doctor with dark circles under his eyes. His white coat was rumpled and he gripped a clipboard like it could save him.

P looked at Sean. “Oh. That’s me, I am,” he said. That would take some getting used to. The father.

“Harper’s okay,” the doctor said. “Though still a bit tired and confused from the pain medication.”

“And the baby?”

“The fetus is viable,” the doctor said as he glanced at his chart. “But Harper’s had a placental abruption, which caused some internal bleeding. There was also some blood in her fluids.”

Sean’s breath was shaky. “Can I see her?”

“Of course. Just bear in mind that stress is the worst thing for her right now. Follow me.”

P gave his forearm a squeeze as Sean started to trail after the doctor. “I’ll be right here,” he said. “Apparently I’m supposed to stay seated. My outfit seems to have offended some people.”

The doctor held back a thin blue curtain for Sean like he was about to present him with a new car or an oversized check. Harper was tucked into the bed, her right arm and hand set up with IVs. She looked tiny, like a child.

“Harper?” he asked quietly, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Sean? I’m so sorry,” she said. Her voice was hoarse and choked with tears.

He rushed to her side and did his best to carefully hug her. With his face buried into her neck, he felt the sting of tears threaten to fall. Seeing her like that was a blunt reminder of all he had to lose. “Don’t be sorry,” he whispered. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“No,” she said, her voice tight. “I thought I could save the baby.”

“You did,” he said. “You did save the baby. The baby’s fine.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I thought it wasn’t too late. That, you know, the rehab would work. I could fix myself—”

Sean leaned up and brushed a stray lock of fiery hair from her face. “I just talked to the doctor,” he said. “He says the baby’s hanging in there. You did good, you did the right thing.”

“No,” she said with a stubborn shake of her head. “I don’t even know if you want the baby,” she said. A fresh flood of tears started to trickle down her face. “And I don’t blame you,” she said. “It’s not your fault. I go and bombard you with this news, you don’t get a say in it. And it’s not like we were together together or anything. I’m so fucking stupid—”

“Hey,” he said as he tucked the hair behind her ear. “It’s okay. Of course I want the baby. It’s a piece of you, of course I want it.” He kissed her softly and tasted the salt on her lips. “I’ll take you in any form I can get.”

Harper’s body began to rock with the sobs, but this time she squeezed him back.

A nurse came in, plump with brown skin that looked soft as whipped butter. “You must be the father,” she said with a warm smile. “Harper’s a trooper. I just need to change up her pain meds, I won’t be a minute,” she said.

Harper let out a groan. “They make me too tired,” she protested, though she knew it was useless.

“You need your sleep. That’s what will make you stronger,” the nurse said.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Harper said.

“It doesn’t hurt because you’re on pain meds,” the nurse said with a small laugh. “In LA, let me tell you, this is a rarity. Someone comes into the ER in the middle of the night and doesn’t want pain meds. That’s what a lot of people come in here for.”

Sean watched the nurse deftly swap out one of the bags. A fresh, strong fluid started to make its way into Harper’s arm.

“It’s going to make me fall asleep,” Harper said apologetically to Sean.

“It’s okay, you go ahead and sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up. P’s here, too, but they’re making him wait up front.”

He thought Harper nodded, but she fell asleep so quickly he couldn’t tell.

“Sorry,” the nurse said. “She’ll be much better when she wakes up after this dose, though.”

“It’s alright. Can I stay in here while she sleeps?”

“Sure, but it might be quite awhile,” the nurse said. “Consider the chair yours.”

He slumped into a hard, straight-backed chair and watched Harper sleep. Sean matched her deep breaths with his. His head spun. The father. He’d never considered being a father before. But he had to admit, a little version of Harper could never be a bad thing. A little boy or girl with a head of fire and those deep eyes of hers that spilled over with curiosity.

Sean took in her sleeping form and reached out to touch her abdomen. It was still flat. He could tell even below the thin hospital blankets. It was their baby in there, strong as she was, whether he was ready for it or not.

He closed his eyes and let the darkness encircle him. The beeps from the monitors got louder and the scent that all hospitals had poured into him. Please God, let her be okay. Let the baby be okay. Please, God.

Sean couldn’t remember the last time he’d prayed, unless he counted the prayers in his meetings with Joon-ki. But he was on autopilot with those, and had never really embraced the whole higher power aspect of Alcoholics Anonymous. Part of him felt like a fake for asking God, or whatever might be out there, for help now. But if not now, when?

Please, God, if you’re out there … I know I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve Harper, or the baby, or anything else good. But she doesn’t deserve this either. Please just let them be okay. Just let everything be okay.

Harper murmured in her sleep and his eyes opened. The brightness of the hospital room was nearly blinding. “It’ll be okay,” he told her quietly. “Don’t worry about anything. You and the baby will be okay. We’ll all be alright.”

She made a sound that he thought was contentment and he closed his eyes again. I know all the steps, all the stages. I know this is bargaining, and I know you get it all the time. But this is different, because this isn’t about me. It’s about Harper and the baby. Please, just let them be alright.

Sean listened to the footsteps that passed down the hall, the squeak of rubber soles on the tile floor polished to a dull shine. He felt the buckle of his jeans press into his abdomen, and was glad for the physical reminder of being in the world. But mostly, he listened to the hum and clicks of Harper’s monitors and willed them to remain steady.