For those of you who are waiting for Friendships Can Be Fatal, I am working on the final chapter. This semester is super busy and I haven't had time to finish that story yet. But, I still managed to find time to write this little ficlet. Ah, well. Who can resist some adorable Paige/Evan?

Paige Collins, soon to be Paige Lawson, glanced at her left hand, grinning at the diamond that now glittered on her fourth finger. Evan had proposed to her almost a week ago, but she couldn't seem to get over the diamond ring. Her diamond ring. When she was little, she had imagined marrying a prince from a far-away land. As a teenager, she wanted to marry an heir to a fortune with a yacht and perfect hair. As a young adult, she had wanted to marry someone exciting and romantic, who loved her. Someone with perfect teeth and windswept blonde hair and bronzed muscles. In other words, not Evan Lawson.

The dorky CFO of HankMed had somehow wormed his way into her heart, though, after she had hired him to be her faux beau. He had been ridiculous, yes. But, he had been sincere. Paige had never had to wonder if Evan loved her or cared for her. He was a gentleman. Well, a gentleman of sorts. He still had an interesting fashion taste, to say the least. And he wasn't the wealthy billionaire Paige had been hoping for when she was younger, but he was passionate. About her.

Somehow, she had convinced him that the HankMed office would be better suited with flowers on the table, that a touch of femininity would improve business. Evan had rolled his eyes, but gladly accepted the excuse to leave his older brother, Hank, to discuss with Divya Katdare, the physician's assistant, the patients of the day. Divya had smiled knowingly, glancing down at the files she was holding, and Hank had shooed his brother out the door, grinning at the young couple.

"Okay, so maybe you're right about the flowers," Evan admitted as they made their way to the gardens that Boris, the mysterious German guy, kept. "I always felt like Divya didn't bring enough femininity to the business. She's so pushy. This one time—"

Paige shushed her fiancé by kissing him. "I don't care about the flowers," she whispered, before kissing him harder.

Evan seemed surprised, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth and he immediately kissed Paige back, pulling her against him. He had never imagined that he would ever settle down or that one woman alone could make him feel the way he did. It was always Hank that Evan imagined getting married and raising a couple kids. Not restless Evan. But, here he was, prepared to give everything he had for one woman. And he had absolutely no regrets. In fact, as soon as they returned back to the house, he would—

Evan's thoughts were interrupted as something large slammed him into the ground, his head connecting painfully with a rock. His vision blurred, but Evan managed to pull himself up on one elbow. Paige was kneeling down beside him, helping him sit up. Whatever soft murmurings Paige was whispering to him were drowned out by a harsh, "Get up, Evan Lawson."

Blinking blearily, Evan tried to place who his assailant was, but he didn't recognize the man. What he did recognize was the bulging muscles that stretched the polo the man was wearing ridiculously taut, allowing aforementioned muscles to be seen even more clearly. Dude desperately needed a shirt one size larger. "Look man, I don't—" Evan began, but a punch to the jaw quickly ended that conversation.

Paige leapt to her feet. "Willem!"

She knew him?

The man, Willem, Paige had called him, turned his angry gaze from Evan to Paige. His eyes immediately softened as he smiled at her. "Paige, babe, I—"

"No! Don't you dare call me 'babe!'" She shouted at the larger man. "I broke up with you years ago! Years, Willem! We were teenagers. Drunk and horny teenagers."

Willem stared at Paige, uncomprehending. "This isn't Paige Collins material," he said softly, repeating what her father had said over and over again to the many guys she had brought home. Only Willem had ever received a nod of approval. Only Willem had made the cut as "Paige Collins material" and he knew it.

"Yeah, well, I love him. A lot, Willem. I'm going to marry Evan R. Lawson, CFO of HankMed," she half-turned, to smile at Evan, who was cautiously standing up.

Evan smiled back at her before turning to Willem. He stuck his hand out to shake hands with his attacker. "No hard feelings, okay?" he asked, grinning.

Before the accountant-turned-CFO could do anything, Willem had grabbed his hand and was crushing it with his brutish strength. Evan screamed as he literally felt his bones shift and break. Evan was no doctor, but he had tagged along with Hank for a couple years now and he knew that hand injuries were bad. Something about tendons and nerves and he really didn't know anything, but he did know that it was very possible for the damage done to his hand to be irreparable.

Paige immediately began hitting Willem, shouting at him to stop, just stop, to leave Evan alone. Evan's scream had subsided to a whimper and he was crouching on the grass, his right arm extended upward and trapped in Willem's crushing grip. Realizing that no amount of hitting or kicking her ex-boyfriend would help, Paige crouched down beside Evan, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She tried to console him, but he didn't seem to be paying attention. His eyes were squeezed shut and Paige could make out a solitary tear streaking down his cheek.

"He doesn't deserve you," Willem growled, releasing Evan's mangled hand. The CFO immediately pulled the hand near his chest, cradling it. "He doesn't deserve you," Willem repeated, "and since you can't seem to see that, I'll have to show you."

"Please don't hurt him," Paige whispered, running her hand through her fiancé's hair, tenderly brushing the curls aside. Evan breathed in shakily, leaning into Paige's comforting touch.

"Get Hank," he whispered, his voice laced with pain.

Paige went to help him up, so they could slowly make their way back to where Hank was, but Willem shoved Paige away. She fell to the ground, the grass staining the white blouse she had chosen for the day. The stain wasn't what worried her. Willem had advanced on Evan, who still lay, trembling, on the ground. "Please," Evan whimpered, his voice pitifully weak, "I never—"

Whatever Evan had never done was cut off as Willem kicked him in the side. "Weak. Worthless. Piece of trash." Each word was accented with a powerful kick to the ribs. Evan kept trying to curl in on his wounded side, to protect it from the painful blows, but Willem was relentless. "You don't deserve Paige Collins."

Grabbing at Willem's arm, Paige attempted to pull the man away from her fiancé. "Willem, don't!" she cried.

Willem stopped his beating to gently move Paige aside. "I don't want to hurt you, so please stand back," he said tenderly. Paige would never be able to understand how a man could go from relentlessly hurting someone to being soft and tender. She couldn't comprehend what she had seen in Willem, back in high school.

Evan began to cough, turning both Willem and Paige's attention back to him. To Paige's horror, blood splattered Evan's trembling hands and the grass on the ground. He was coughing up blood. That was insanely bad. Paige had seen a couple medical TV shows and, if she remembered correctly, coughing up blood meant an internal injury. Evan needed more than just Hank; he needed a hospital. "Hank," Evan croaked out, clutching at his stomach with his good hand.

"It's going to be okay, Evan," Paige said, starting forward to comfort him. She desperately wished she had her cell phone with her, but she had left it on the counter when she had gone outside with Evan. At the time, Paige had thought that she wouldn't want to contact anyone, but she regretted that decision whole-heartedly.

Willem held his hand out, keeping Paige from reaching Evan. "Don't worry, Paige. I'll put him out of his misery and then we can be together."

Before Paige could say or do anything, Willem had kicked Evan in the face. Blood spurted from his nose, which Paige figured was probably broken, and Evan's head snapped backward, the force of the kick sending him sprawling onto his back. Evan tried to get away, but Willem was faster than the injured man. He stepped on Evan's already broken hand, eliciting a hoarse scream from the CFO. As Evan screamed, a bit of blood bubbled up, trickling down his chin.

Paige knew what she had to do. She didn't like it and she was downright terrified, but she knew what needed to be done. Someone needed to get Hank and Evan clearly was unable to make it back to the garden house. Fighting back tears, Paige did what she would regret for a long time, she turned away from Evan and ran toward the garden house. She ignored Evan's pitiful, half-strangled cry, "Paige!"

Hank reached for his medical bag, readying himself to go to their first appointment of the day. Divya and Hank had just finished going over the schedule and it was almost time to leave, if they wanted to be to their first patient of the day on time. Evan and Paige hadn't returned yet, but Hank hadn't expected them to. He was really happy that his younger brother had found a girl who could put up with his shenanigans and that everything was working out for the couple. "Are we going to wait for Evan?" Divya asked. "He wanted to meet with the Millers and see if they were interested in investing in HankMed."

"Evan can come along next time," Hank said, grinning. "I think he and Paige could use some time to themselves."

Divya laughed in agreement. She was about to say something else to Hank, but Paige burst into the room. "Hank!" she called out desperately.

Hank immediately went into what Evan called "extreme doctor mode." Paige was crying; she must be hurt somewhere. "Paige, what's wrong?" Hank asked, grabbing her shoulders to steady her.

"Evan," Paige sobbed.

Hank felt his stomach drop down to his toes. No. No, he would know if Evan were hurt. Weren't brothers supposed to have some sort of special sense like that? "Where is he?" Hank asked, struggling to make eye contact with Paige.

"The garden. Willem—" Paige cut off whatever she was going to say, biting back a sob.

"Call an ambulance," Hank instructed Divya. He had no clue how badly Evan was hurt. And maybe he had just broken an arm or something non-life-threatening like that. But, Hank refused to take chances with his baby brother's life. Before Divya could even nod, Hank had left the building and was running to Boris' gardens, where Paige had said Evan was hurt.

He hadn't gone far when he spotted a large, muscled man running out of the gardens. For a brief moment, Hank was tempted to chase after the man. If that guy had hurt his brother… But, no. It was more important that Hank find Evan. He scanned the wide gardens, but he was unable to immediately spot the familiar head of curls. Hank jogged toward where he had seen the man running from, searching for his brother.

Hank's heart skipped a beat when he noticed a motionless heap, lying near the back of the garden. Hank quickly made his way to his brother's still body, terrified that his brother would be—But that was impossible. He would have known. He would have felt a "disturbance in the Force," as Evan would have put it. Hank still didn't understand why his brother had such an obsession with those movies. Evan had informed Hank that he wasn't obsessed, merely passionate about Star Wars and that passion was healthy. So healthy, in fact, that they named a fruit after the emotion.

As Hank fell to his knees next to his brother's body, Hank realized that he could not lose his brother. He wouldn't allow it. Swiftly, Hank checked for a pulse. He was relieved to discover one almost immediately. It was weak and rushed, but it was there. Frankly, that was all Hank cared about at the moment. "Oh, Ev," Hank murmured as he examined his brother, trying to diagnose his injuries.

Hank ignored the broken nose, recognizing that that would most likely be the least of Evan's worries. He gently felt Evan's skull, dismayed when his hand came away bloody. Head injuries are bad. Head injuries lead to scary things like comas and death. Hank forced himself to ignore the horrible thoughts that Evan could very well die and continue the diagnosis. Lifting up Evan's shirt, he discovered a motley of bruises forming on the skin. Hank gently felt Evan's ribs to ascertain if any had been cracked or broken. His left side gave way to the slight pressure Hank exerted and Evan hissed in pain, still unconscious. At least two of his ribs were broken on that side, if not more. Hank examined Evan's right hand, horribly mangled. They'd need to set that quickly in order to prevent the bones from healing themselves into disfigurement.

All in all, it wasn't completely awful, the doctorly side of Hank pointed out. All in all, it was the most frightening thing and Evan could still die, the brotherly side of Hank nearly screamed.

Hank sat with his brother, gently holding his left, undamaged hand, rubbing circles with his thumb. "Evan, you're going to be okay," he said softly. If it were some Hallmark movie, Evan would have woken up at that moment, his eyes filled with tears of pain and relief. He would have whispered Hank's name and they would have had some beautiful moment where they both realized how important they were to the other.

But, this was no Hallmark movie. Evan remained motionless, his breathing shallow and restricted by the broken ribs. Hank sat there, quiet, worried, waiting for the paramedics. It wasn't until the ambulance pulled up (drove right up into the garden. Hopefully, Boris would understand) that Hank was able to breathe more easily. Everything would be okay now. It would have to be. Evan would be taken to the hospital where they could provide the help to put Evan back on his feet.

Paige stared at her disheveled appearance in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was ratty and the stain she had noted on her blouse was much larger than she had previously realized. Her mascara had run slightly and then been smeared when she had wiped tears away from her face. She looked completely awful. But, compared to how Evan had looked when she had gone to get Hank—left him, ran away like a foolish coward—she wasn't poorly off.

After calling the ambulance and directing it to Boris' gardens, Divya had offered to drive Paige to the hospital. Paige had accepted, knowing full well that she was in no position to drive herself anyway, not when all her thoughts were on Evan and the blood that had been trickling down his chin. He could be dying. He could be dead. And Paige had just run away. She had left Evan with Willem, had turned tail and run away.

Immediately upon reaching the hospital, they had run into Hank, who was pacing the waiting room, one hand running through his hair. Divya hadn't even needed to say anything, had just looked at Hank and he had shakily shrugged his shoulders. "Broken ribs, head injury, his hand—" Hank trailed off, wishing somehow his brother was okay, that none of this had happened and it was all just a bad dream that he happened to be stuck in. If he pinched himself hard enough, he'd wake up and Evan would be snoring in his room, loud enough that Hank could hear it from his own room and he'd know his brother was fine. But, that wasn't going to happen. This was too real.

Paige had quickly excused herself to the bathroom and now here she was, staring at her reflection, wishing that there was a way she could redo her actions. Perhaps if she had stayed, she could have managed to stop Willem, convince him to leave Evan alone. Maybe if she had jumped in front of Evan, blocked him from Willem's unrelenting foot, he'd be okay. It was too late now, though. Paige had made her decision and Evan was in the hospital, in surgery. She stared at the diamond on her fourth finger and knew that she didn't deserve Evan's love, not when she would rather run than help her fiancée. Paige could still hear Evan's hoarse cry for her to stay, to help, but she—

The opening of the bathroom door startled Paige. "Oh, Divya. It's you," she breathed easier, putting her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating erratically: the slight scare exacerbating the current stress she was feeling for Evan.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Divya explained. You've been in here for a while."

"I just—" Paige fumbled for an excuse for an absence. How could she explain that she didn't want to look Hank in the eyes, couldn't look Hank in the eyes after leaving his brother to be pounded on by her ex? How could she even look herself in the eyes?

Softly, Divya continued, "You can't blame yourself."

Paige snorted, though it sounded dangerously close to a sob. "Can't blame myself? Really, Divya? Because from every angle I look at this awful situation, it seems like I'm to blame. I was the one that convinced Evan to come out to the gardens. Willem was my ex. I was the one who left him there to—It's all my fault," Paige nearly shouted.

"He's going to be fine," Divya reassured the nearly hysterical woman.

"You don't know that. You can't possibly know that. He could still die. Just look at Hank: he's the doctor and he's still terrified that I will be the reason his younger brother is dead!"

"But he won't. Look, Hank's worried because that's his brother. Yes, Evan's hurt and yes, it will take a while for him to fully recover, but he won't die. Hank said the bump on his head was raised and while broken ribs and hands are hell, they aren't deadly. He's going to be fine."

Paige let out a shuddering breath. "Are you sure?"

"Certain." Divya smiled at the blonde woman. "Now, why don't we go wait with Hank. He could use some company."

Evan woke up to faint whispers. He couldn't immediately place the voices, one feminine and the other masculine, and he wasn't quite willing to force his heavy eyes open. Not yet, at least. Not when he still has the chance to slip back into a warm sleep and continue that dream he had been having. Something about the last bagel with strawberry cream cheese and Keira Knightley—

"Evan? Evan, are you awake?"

Well, now he definitely wasn't going to be able to fall asleep. Not with Hank pestering him. Ah, Hank. That was the man's voice he had heard. With all memories of Keira Knightley and bagels, Evan managed to open his eyes, the fluorescent light overhead nearly blinding him. "Now I am," Evan croaked out.

"Sorry. You looked like you were waking up," Hank pointed out, grinning. "Besides, it's almost one o'clock. I can't let you sleep your whole life away."

Evan blinked a couple times. "One?" Even after some awful hangovers, he had only ever slept in to noon. "Why'd you let me sleep in so long?"

"You don't remember?" the girl that Evan suddenly remembered was in the room asked.

As he turned to see who was talking, he realized that he was not in his own bed. "I'm in the hospital?"

"Yes," the girl said gently.

Evan finally managed to turn his head to the side, catching sight of Paige Collins. "Paige?" he asked. "Why—" Then he remembered. The flowers and that giant Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson wannabe and now he was in the hospital. "Do you think he was doing steroids?" Evan asked.

"You—what?" Paige asked.

"That guy. Do you think he was doing steroids? Or did he eat raw eggs every morning?" Turning to Hank, Evan asked, "Does that work?"

"Does what work?" Hank asked, not sure where Evan was going with his comments.

"Eating raw eggs to be the size of a barge."

Hank gave his younger brother a strange look. "How hard did you hit your head?"

"Oh, come on. Surely, you know what I'm talking about." Evan cleared his voice and then began to sing, horribly off key, "And now that I'm grown I eat five dozen eggs / so I'm roughly the size of a barge!"

"I think you've officially lost it," Hank informed Evan.

"But—"

Evan was cut off when Paige shouted, "It's my fault!"

"What?" Evan asked.

"This. All of this. It's my fault. You're hurt because of me."

"From what I remember, you weren't the one trying to kick my ribs in," Evan pointed out.

Paige frowned. "Willem was my ex. What he did to you… it was because of me."

"I'm okay, though. And I'm pretty sure that, if Hank asks him, Boris will send some evil spy out to kill Willem. Or at least bring him to justice. We're all fine."

Paige wasn't going to be absolved so easily. "Evan. I understand if you want to call off the marriage."

"Call off the marriage? No! This just means I'll have some wicked scars for the wedding." In a softer tone, Evan added, "I love you, Paige. A beating isn't going to change that."

"Really?"

"Really."

Hank recognized that his brother would probably appreciate some privacy, so he started backing to the door. "I'll leave you to your girl, Gaston," he called out as he opened the hospital door. He laughed at Evan's parting shout.

"I knew you knew what I was talking about!"