Regret (Ianthony)

The Answer

"Sir? Are you a relative of Anthony Padilla?"

Ian quickly nodded as the nurse with a clipboard full of names gestured for him to follow her as she began waltzing away down the hall of identical doors. Ian immediately stood from his station at a padded seat in the small waiting room before chasing down the nurse, catching up to her pace so he could walk alongside her. They quickly arrived at room 437 in the Intensive Care Unit. It had been about a week since the shooting, and Ian hadn't been permitted to see Anthony at all during that time. Anthony had been barely holding on all week, constantly swinging from on the road to recovery to near-death. It had been killing Ian.

He should have never fucking broken up with Anthony. It was all because of one messed-up proposal, and Ian hadn't been able to look past that. So, he told Anthony he was ending it, that he wanted it back the way it used to be. Anthony had played along well enough; in fact, Ian hadn't even suspected that Anthony really hadn't been completely content with the situation until he saw the way he looked at him.

With sad, broken love.

It all seemed so small now; his soul mate was teetering on a crumbling ledge between life and death, and it was all his fault. Anthony had saved Ian's life in exchange for his own, and Ian would never forgive him for that. Ian wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth saving, let alone dying for.

"He's conscious right now, but try not to put any stress on him due to his unstable condition," the nurse warned before unlocking the door and holding it open for Ian, who carefully stepped in. There was Anthony, eyes slightly open, breathing mask over his mouth and nose, body (exempting his head and shoulders) covered with thin hospital sheets. Ian knew that if he were to remove the sheets, he would most likely find bloodstained gauze, even though he knew for a fact that his bandages had been changed only a couple of hours beforehand.

A doctor loomed behind Anthony's hospital bed like a bad omen, clipboard in hand. The nurse gently shut the door, thus closing Ian in the room.

"Hello, Mr. Hecox," the doctor greeted. Ian waved at him silently.

"I'm Dr. Hendrik, and I'm here to inform you of Mr. Padilla's condition." His eyes began zigzagging down the clipboard as he recited, "Broken rib, punctured lung-"

"Internal bleeding," Ian finished. He had already been told all of these things, and it still wasn't easy to hear them repeated.

Dr. Hendrik bowed his head. "But you haven't heard the story yet, have you?"

Raising an eyebrow, Ian asked, "Story?"

Nodding, the doctor began, "Well, it's actually quite fascinating. Your friend is extremely lucky to still be breathing. When we pulled out the bullet, it seemed that it had broken through the rib and punctured one side of the lung. What's interesting is that the rib slowed down the bullet enough so that it stopped before it went any deeper and collapsed the lung entirely. We were able to patch the punctured lung before anymore damage was done." Dr. Hendrik raised his eyes to meet Ian's. "As I said before, Mr. Padilla is extremely lucky."

Ian shook his head irritably. "Luck has nothing to do with it."

"And I respect that," the doctor shot back in his professionally calm manner. "Now, I'll leave you two alone."

As soon as the doctor was out of the room, Ian rushed to Anthony, who still had his eyes open, alert and ready to speak.

"God, Ian, I missed you," he croaked weakly, trying his hardest not to show how difficult it was for him to use speech.

Smiling with tears already in his eyes, Ian whispered, "I missed you too, babe." He didn't even attempt to conceal the love in his voice; they had already gone in one circle with their relationship, and enough was enough.

Anthony murmured, "I love you." It seemed as though the speech that had been eluding him for some time had finally begun to pick back up again. He pointed to a small leather case on the side table next to his hospital bed. "See that? That's yours, if you want it." Ian followed Anthony's lead and walked around to the other side of Anthony's bed to pick up the case. He pried it open. Inside resided a glowing iron ring with the Smosh symbol set into it with what appeared to be aquamarines. Tears now freely flowing down his face, Ian plucked the ring out of its box and slipped it on his middle finger of his right hand.

"So... Is this a proposal?" Ian asked meekly, dumbfounded. Awestruck. Gobstopped.

Rollling his eyes, Anthony replied, "I can't exactly get on one knee right now, but yeah. Take it as you want, 'cause I'm not losing you again. Ever."

Ian smiled brilliantly enough to light the universe. "Are you gonna ask?"

"You really want me to?"

"Yep."

"Alright." Anthony took a deep breath in. "Ian Hecox, will you marry me?"

"Hell yes." 

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Author's Note:

Another sweet journey, right? That was awesome! I just want to thank you all for your support and I hope that you had as much fun with this story as I did. Oh, and I was meaning to ask you; which Ianthony story would you like me to make next:

- Escaping the Friend Zone

- Just Another Ianthony Story

- Me, the Mind Reader

- All's Fair in Love and War

- Vulnerable

- High School

- One Week

I just thought I'd see which title got you most excited. Leave your pick in the comments below if you're interested, although I will be taking at least a week to chill before taking on a big project again. Again, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

                                                                                                                   - totallycheesey