Chapter 2 : Car Accident Reunion

Six months passed.

Howard Nan settled into his new life. The residency was brutal. Eighty-hour weeks. Sleep snatched in call rooms. Coffee as a food group. He learned to navigate the hospital corridors with the confidence of someone who belonged. He saved lives. He lost some. He pretended he wasn''t a forty-year-old man in a twenty-three-year-old body.

He pretended he didn''t think about Nathan every day.

The memories were easier to manage with exhaustion as a buffer. When he was too tired to think, he could almost believe this was his only life. Howard Nan, neurosurgery resident. Not Lynn Douglas, reincarnated.

Almost.

Then came the night shift.

The ER was chaos. A multi-car pileup on the FDR Drive. Ambulances arriving every few minutes. Blood on the floors. The smell of antiseptic and fear.

Howard was suturing a laceration on a teenager''s forehead when the call came over the radio.

"Trauma One, incoming. MVA, driver, male, thirties. GCS 13. Possible internal injuries. ETA three minutes."

He finished the suture. Tied it off. "You''ll need to come back for stitch removal in ten days," he told the kid, who was pale but trying to look tough.

Then he headed to Trauma One.

The ambulance doors burst open. Paramedics rushed in with a gurney. A man lay on it, strapped down. Blood on his face. Eyes closed but moving beneath the lids.

Howard''s breath caught.

Even with the blood, even with the bruises starting to form, he knew that face. He''d studied it in photos for six months. He''d dreamed about it.

Nathan Chen.

The paramedic rattled off vitals. "BP 140/90, heart rate 110, respirations 22. GCS improved to 14 en route. Possible rib fractures. Abdominal tenderness."

Howard''s hands were steady. Years of surgical training took over. "Get him on the bed. Full trauma panel. Chest X-ray. FAST exam."

He moved to the head of the bed. Nathan''s eyes fluttered open. Dark, confused. They focused on Howard.

For a moment, nothing. Then a frown. A flicker of something in those dark eyes. Recognition? No, not possible. But something. A connection.

"Can you tell me your name?" Howard asked. His voice was calm. Professional.

"Nathan." The voice was rough. Painful.

"Do you know where you are, Nathan?"

"Hospital." Nathan''s eyes never left Howard''s face. "You''re... the doctor?"

"Yes. I''m Dr. Nan. You were in a car accident. We need to check you for injuries."

Howard began the exam. His hands on Nathan''s neck, checking for spinal tenderness. The skin was warm. The pulse strong beneath his fingertips. He could feel Nathan watching him.

Every touch was familiar and foreign. The shape of Nathan''s collarbone. The curve of his shoulder. Howard had touched these places before. As Lynn. In a different life. In a different body.

But this body remembered. His fingers trembled slightly. He steadied them.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, pressing on Nathan''s abdomen.

Nathan hissed. "Yeah."

"Okay. We''ll get an ultrasound. Check for internal bleeding."

He moved down the body. Checking legs. Ankles. Everything by the book. But every touch sent electricity through him. The memory of Nathan''s hands on his body. The weight of him. The smell.

And the smell was still there. Even through the blood and sweat and hospital smells. Cigarettes. Expensive cologne. That unique Nathan scent beneath it all.

It hit Howard like a physical blow. He had to step back. Breathe.

"Doctor?" Nathan''s voice was low. "You okay?"

"I''m fine." Howard''s voice was tighter than he intended. "Just... assessing."

He finished the exam. Ordered the tests. Nathan needed a CT scan. Possible rib fractures. Possible spleen injury.

While they waited for transport, Nathan spoke again. "You look familiar."

Howard''s heart hammered against his ribs. "I work here. You might have seen me around."

"No." Nathan''s eyes narrowed. "Not that kind of familiar. Different."

"I have one of those faces." Howard turned to the computer. Entered orders. His hands were shaking. He hoped Nathan couldn''t see.

The transport team arrived. They moved Nathan to a stretcher. As they wheeled him out, Nathan looked back at Howard. That intense gaze. Searching.

Howard watched him go. Then he went to the sink. Washed his hands. The water was cold. It didn''t help.

He looked at his reflection in the metal surface. Howard Nan''s face stared back. Young. Unmarked. A stranger''s face.

But Nathan had looked at him like he knew him. Like he saw something beneath the surface.

Impossible.

But the connection had been real. Howard had felt it. A pull. An attraction that went both ways.

He finished his shift in a daze. Saw other patients. Did other procedures. But his mind was with Nathan. In the CT scanner. In a hospital room somewhere upstairs.

At the end of his shift, he checked the system. Nathan Chen. Room 814. Stable condition. Rib fractures, no internal bleeding. Observation overnight.

Howard should go home. Sleep. He had another shift in twelve hours.

Instead, he went to the eighth floor.

He stood outside room 814. The door was slightly ajar. He could see Nathan inside. Sitting up in bed. Phone to his ear. Talking in low, urgent tones.

Then Nathan looked up. Saw him.

Howard froze. He should leave. This was unprofessional. Dangerous.

But he couldn''t move.

Nathan ended the call. "Doctor."

Howard stepped into the room. "Just checking on you. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a car." A faint smile. "Which I did."

"The CT was clear. No internal injuries. The ribs will hurt for a while, but they''ll heal."

"Good." Nathan studied him. "You came all the way up here to tell me that?"

"I... was in the area."

"At three in the morning?"

Howard had no answer.

Nathan''s smile widened slightly. "You''re not like other doctors."

"How so?"

"You care." Nathan''s gaze was intense. "I can tell. It''s not just a job for you."

Howard''s throat tightened. "It''s always more than a job."

Silence stretched between them. Heavy. Charged.

Then Nathan said, "Have dinner with me."

"What?"

"When I get out of here. Have dinner with me."

"I can''t. Doctor-patient..."

"I''ll be discharged tomorrow. Then I''m not your patient anymore."

"It''s still inappropriate."

"Since when do you care about appropriate?" Nathan''s eyes held a challenge. "I can tell you don''t. Not really."

Howard''s heart was pounding. This was madness. Nathan was flirting with him. And part of him—the part that was still Lynn—wanted to say yes. Wanted to sit across from Nathan. Talk to him. Touch him.

But the other part—the doctor, the survivor—knew this was dangerous. Nathan was dangerous. His world was dangerous.

"I should go," Howard said.

"Wait." Nathan''s voice stopped him. "At least tell me your first name."

"Howard."

"Howard." Nathan tested the name. "It suits you."

Howard fled.

In the elevator, he leaned against the wall. Breathed. His whole body was trembling.

Nathan wanted to see him again. Not as a doctor. As something else.

And Howard wanted it too. Desperately.

But how could he? How could he sit across from Nathan, knowing who he really was? Knowing Nathan thought Lynn was dead?

It would be a lie. A betrayal.

Or it would be a chance. A chance to be close to Nathan again. Even if Nathan never knew the truth.

The elevator doors opened. Howard walked out into the night. The air was cold. Clean.

He looked up at the hospital windows. Room 814 was dark now.

Nathan was sleeping. Or lying awake. Thinking about him.

Howard turned and walked away. But he knew.

This wasn''t over. It was just beginning.