"Professor, can you have a look at the scans i emailed you?"

She was pacing the short length of her office, with her IPad in hands and airpods in her ears concealed by the lavender colored hijab. She'd barely slept for an hour and a half when she'd woken up and sent her mother home. She'd assigned a second year resident to keep an eye on Yazaan's vital full time, and texted Professor Deniz for his advice.

Now, half hour later, she was on video call with him. The silence during which Deniz seemed to study the scans was deafening to her. She was constantly tapping her foot, leaning against the table and chewed the inside of her cheek.

"This is your patient?"

"Yes, professor."

"Hhmmmm."

"What are the possible outcomes expected, professor?"

"You performed this?"

"I did."

"Well then, you are very well aware of the possible outcomes as much as i do."

"I do. But-"

"But you wanted hope."

She nodded. She did need hope. He knew that. Even though the visual aspects show that the surgery was completely successful, there were so many other factors that presented a potential threat to Yazaan's health. And whenever she faced such circumstances, she called her teacher, whom she believed was never wrong.

"Is this someone close to you?"

Ofcourse he was her teacher. And he'd picked up this habit of her to get emotionally close with her patients. That was one of the cases when she sought his advice.

Begging herself not to collapse, she nodded and said, "he's my husband."

"What?!", it was as if Deniz choked on air. "When did that happen?"

"Long story", it felt like years ago since that happened. So much had changed in these eight months. But one thing was certain, she didn't hate him anymore. In fact, her feelings were leaning towards liking than just being neutral.

"Well, i would've said congratulations had the circumstances were different."

"Wasn't much of a congratulatory event, professor. Anyway. . . Is there any hope?"

He sighed and leaned back, eyes back on the scans.

"Look Layeba, according to the reports, it seems that everything was fine. But human is a complex being. Each and every person is unique despite the similar anatomy. We can't really know how it's going to react until we see it. You know how it is."

She nodded. Of course, she knew this. She now understood how patients' relatives felt when doctors gave them such diplomatic responses.

"Don't worry, kiz. Everything will be fine."

(Turkish for: girl.)

"InshaAllah. I'll talk to you later, professor."

She didn't waste time with pleasantaries. She just ended the call there and grabbed her forehead. Waiting was the worst. Especially when she'd taken a leave from rounds because she knew she wouldn't be able to pay attention.

She didn't plan on going, but her feet took her to the elevators and up to the room in which her husband lay. She dismissed the resident there, who she mentally praised for being so alert. She was glad there was no other patient in the ICU and the second bed was empty.

She took a seat beside his bed and studied him. She had grown used to seeing past the equipment attached to a patient's body and actually seeing them. Most of them looked lifeless in such cases, their lips chapped, dark pits around the eyes, cheeks hollowed in. They looked in distress, even. They didn't show any sign that they were aware they were not dead.

But she couldn't see that with Yazaan. He didn't look as if he'd given hope. He didn't seem in discomfort. He looked as if he was sleeping. And that too, peacefully, with no worry in the world. As if he was living his life, just not in this world.

And that's what terrified her.

What if he grew accustomed to whatever dream he was living in and refused to wake up here? Couldn't he sense how much everyone was hurting. How much she was hurting? She might be hurting even more than she should've. And the reason wasn't yet known to herself, but he knew that feeling.

Right?

He'd lived ten years of his life hurting for his siblings, his parents. He would know exactly why she felt that way.

The regular beeping of the machine which usually gave her hope was giving her nothing but anxiety. What if it continued on beeping like this forever? What if she had to listen to it for as long as he had will to live?

"Stop overthinking, Layeba", she scolded herself. "Allah is great. He knows i'm not this strong. He wouldn't put any trial on me which he knows i wouldn't be able to bear. Right?" What started as a consolation to herself turned into a question directed towards the motionless body.

"I don't know what i'm doing here. But since i am and i know there is a sixty percent chance that you can hear me, i might as well talk." She swallowed, biting her upper lip. Without exactly planning it, she took his large, pale, calloused hand in both of her small, golden soft ones and subconciously noticed how they fit together.

"For the first time, Yazaan, i'm not proud of being a doctor. I don't like the things that i know. The knowledge that i have, all the possibilities, the threats, they are like a curse to me. I wish i was just a normal being, to whom when doctors say 'have hope and pray', they believe them. But i'm not. And i can't bring myself to hope. Not now.

"Please wake up. You have to wake up. This was not the part of the plan. We were supposed to figure things out between us. I was going to fulfill my promise." She sniffed, wiping tears from her cheeks before grabbing his hand again. "You do remember my promise to you, don't you? Right. I intend to keep that promise. As always, i have still no idea how. But one thing i know, this isn't an option.

"Please wake up. I beg you."

She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall on her cheeks and left his hand, placing it gently on the bed.

The headache was getting unbearable now. The lack of sleep was making her dizzy. Since she had a day off and practically nothing to do, she decided to take a nap. But she didn't want to leave Yazaan's side, especially when she had no clue where Abeerah or Ozhan were.

So, she laid down on the spare bed in the ICU and dozed off, planning to sleep for not more than two hours, maximum three.

•~•

Ozhan wrapped a protective arm around Abeerah's shoulder and she moved a bit closer to him, now more scared as he was all tensed and worried. But she was confused too. Because these people looked so sweet. Even if she didn't understand half of what they were saying, she knew they weren't spewing hatred.

"Ao g ao. Ab aapko apni Bebay se milwate hain."

(Come on! Let me introduce you to my grandmother.)

They followed Ch. Tanveer to the far corner of the open arena. The haweli did not disappoint her image of a Punjabi village. Women dressed in colorful Shalwar Kameez with paranda in their hair, performing different chores. Men in either Shalwar Kameez or wearing dhoti kurta and turbans on their heads were chatting loudly in groups on the Charpai's, matted bed. Some were laying on the matted beds with hukkah straw in their hands. They all had big mustaches, some sporting beards too.

One thing that was common between their haweli back home and this one, was the armoured guard roaming the premises. And she kind of had an idea why Ozhan had a reason to worry.

They stopped in front of an old woman with kind light brown eyes, sitting on a Charpayi, crosslegged. She might be the kindest lady she'd ever seen. She remembered her Bi Jaan, and subconciously compared the two. She'd never seen kindness in Bi Jaan's eyes. There was always a steely determination and a challenge in them. She demanded fear and obedience and respect. While this woman seemed that she didn't need people to fear her in order for them to respect her. Everyone seemed to love her.

Tanveer bent low in front of Bebay and she caressed his face, muttering something she didn't understand but knew that they were endearments.

"Bebay ae kush der vaaste saade me'maan ne. Ihna di raa vich gaddi kharab ho gai c te ae ithe aa gaye. Ihna vaaste kamra tyar kara de. Te khaan peen da v bandobast kara."

(Grandmother, these two would be our guests for a short while. Their car broke down in the middle of the road and they came here. Have people prepare a room for them and also tell the maids to arrange the dinner.)

The old woman smiled at both of them and replied, "Zaroor puttar. Tussi dovaeen betho. Main haale aye kamm karaandi aan."

(Of course, lad. You two sit down. I'll just order for these things.)

Ozhan and Abeerha, both stood there awkwardly, having no idea about the conversation that passed between the grandmother-son duo.

"Oh, sach. Bebay, ihnan nu punjabi ni aandi. Shehron aye ne ae", Tanveer said to her while looking at both of them. The way his gaze settled at her for a moment longer made her uneasy but she thought not much of it.

(Oh right. They don't know the language. They're from the city.)

The woman smiled again, and patted the seat beside her, indicating them to sit, which they did. Ozhan, rather tensly and Abeerah relieved. Ozhan was praying that no one here recognizes him, even if he had met the Chaudhary's only once but that hadn't gone too well.

"Koi nai, puttar. Main inhan di khaatir kar lawaan gi. Tu Nageena nu pej buss mere kol."

(No worry, lad. I'll take care of them. You just send Nageena to me.)

"Acha Bebay." But Tanveer didn't leave. His gaze again went to Abeerah and this time, he looked her from head to toe. Ozhan's grip on what he was holding tightened, mentally imagining gouging his eyes out. Unfortunately for Abeerah, it was her hand he was holding, making her wince. He immediately loosened his grip.

"Aapke naam ki hain, beta g?" Bebay addressed them both. Tanveer didn't reply for them this once, because he didn't know it himself. He'd never asked and they'd never told.

(What are your names, son?)

Ozhan tightened his hold on his hand once more. A warning. And she wasn't stupid to not know what it meant.

"Aliya. Aliya. . . Hussein." Thinking of the first name that came to her mind.

"Omer."

"MashaAllah MashaAllah. Both sohne naam hain. Allah kismatein achi kare." Abeerah had barely spoken just her name to the woman, and the she was smitten by the green-eyed beauty, which didn't go unnoticed by Ozhan. "Veeray, ja na tu puttar!"

(You have beautiful names. May you have beautiful fates as well. . . You go, lad.)

Tanveer left there, turning to look at Abeerah once more which made her grip Ozhan's hand this time.

"Tussi dono Lahore se aye ho?"

(You've both come from Lahore?)

"G, Lahore se aye hain", Abeerah replied. Knowing Ozhan he would just be watching both their backs for any hostility.

(Yes, we've come from Lahore.)

"Lahore se lagdi nai aye toon."

(You don't look like you're from Lahore.)

Punjabi wasn't so difficult, she observed. It was much like Urdu with a few added words.

"Nai, hum Hunza se hain." Ozhan glared at her for sharing this piece of information but she glared back as if saying, khud kuch bol lete phir! (You give answers then!)

(No, we're actually from Hunza.)

"MashaAllah. Mjhe lagya hi tha k tussi pathan ho. Boht sohni hai toon." The woman was mixing two languages which seemed to amuse Abeerah. As if realizing something, the woman yelled away from them, "Ni Nageena, tenu main aakhya v hai ithe aa. Sundi nai toon. Koi kamm ni kardi. Chetti ithe aa. Pata ni kere kamman che laggi hoeen ayen."

(I thought so too, that you're a Pathan. You're really beautiful. . . Nageena! I told you to come here! You don't listen at all, don't do anything. Hurry up. Come here. Don't know which chores you're busy in.)

A middle aged woman came to them and Bebay started giving instructions to her.

Damn! The woman sure looked fragile but boy did she pack a voice! Abeerah's felt like her head will split open as the headache in it was intensified.

She winced and grabbed her head, making Ozhan look at her in worry.

"You okay?" He asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, no. My head hurts really bad." There was no point denying it.

"Do you think you might have a concussion?"

"It feels like it. Other than that, i feel sick. Really warm and weird."

He placed her hand on her forehead and patted her cheeks. Indeed, she had a fever. It certainly didn't ease his worries. "Don't worry, everything will be alright, i promise."

He didn't think before kissing the top of her head and pulled her closer by an arm around his shoulder. But in a small village like this, it mattered a lot. Even if they told them they were married, which they weren't, it was still frowned upon to be this cozy in public.

Luckily for them, only the old woman had seen it as Nageena had went to fulfill her orders.

"Tussi dono aik doosre ke kya lagte ho?"

(How are you both related to each other?)

Abeerah looked at Ozhan, telling him with her expressions, you tell her lest i mess this up.

"Mere taya ki beti hai ye."

(She's my uncle's son. Taya: Father's elder brother.)

The woman's eyebrows disappeared in her stole that covered her head and a glint of judgement shined in those hazel eyes but she was a wise woman. She didn't comment and asked them to follow a maid into a guest room.

Her legs ached as she climbed up the stairs and took her support from Ozhan who wasn't doing much well either. Sure, his own injuries had healed and he'd ripped off the bandages and plasters a week ago but everything had taken a toll on him too. More so than he showed.

"Abeerah, allow me to pick you up. That's the only thing left. You're practically falling on me. And let me tell you, you don't exactly weigh like a feather", Ozhan said sarcastically, making Abeerah stepping away from him.

"You're so cruel, lala."

"Not as much as you, trust me", he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

The room was medium sized with peach colored walls, one of them having a couple windows which allowed fresh air and sunlight into the room.

"Ye bathroom hai", the maid pointed at the door other than the entrance. "Bebay ne aap ke vaaste kuch kapre rakhwaen hain bister pr. Aik ghante main khaana neeche lage ga. Tussi dono aa jana."

(This is the bathroom. Grandmother has placed some clothes for you on the bed. Dinner will be served downstairs in an hour. You come there.)

"Is takalluf ki koi zaroorat nai thi. Hum bus ghar phone kar dein to koi lene aa jaye ga. Aap log khwa makhaan dikkat daal rahe", Abeerah said, while Ozhan rolled his eyes behind her back, checking the white Shalwar Kameez laid on the bed for him. She was starving, he knew that and he also knew that she knew that these people won't let them go without showing off their hospitality. What was the need of this fake formality?

(There was no need for this hassle. We'll just call our home and someone will come and get us. You're getting yourselves in trouble for nothing.)

"Arre aise to nai chalta na. Aap humare mehmaan ho. Khaatir kiye bina to jaane nai de skte." Abeerah smiled. "Kuch or tum ko chahiye ho to bata deiyyo."

(It can't be done this way. You're our guests. We can't let you go without serving you in best way possible. . . tell me if you need anything else.)

"Actually, phone ka charger mil skta hai? Battery nai hai phone main or call karni hai", Ozhan said, pointing at the phone in his hand.

(Actually, can we a phone's charger, please? The mobile's out of battery and i've to make a call.)

"G zaroor", the maid blushed having his full concentration on her which made Ozhan hold in his smirk and Abeerah to roll her eyes.

(Of course.)

The girl yelled something which they both comprehended as her ordering a boy named Shameer to bring charger. After a few moments, a boy of around ten came running bearing a charger in his hand.

Thanking them and taking the lead, she shut the door.

"You had to make her uncomfortable, didn't you, lala?" Abeerah took her phone from him and put it on charge, mentally thanking that it was of iPhone and not Android.

"It's not my fault i'm handsome."

"Is that what you've been telling yourself your whole life?*

"No. That is what's everyone's been telling me whole my life", he poked her nose and went into the bathroom to take a shower, but before shutting the door behind him, he warned, "do not open the door to anyone."

She sat on the bed, and turned on her phone. If they really were in trouble, she should call someone to come and take them. But who would she call? She only knew two people in Lahore who could, Sanem and Layeba. But she knew both were too busy. And she couldn't call Layeba because she'd have to leave Yazaan alone. And she didn't want that.

Yazaan. Her brother. He was the one she mostly turned to when she was in problem. She could always trust him to have her back. But now he was in a condition where he couldn't even watch his own back let alone protect her. It wasn't like she didn't appreciate Ozhan or trust him with her life. She did. But thinking of her brother made tears brim in her eyes and before she knew, she was sobbing into her knees, wrapping her arms around herself.

A minute later, someone sat beside her and took her in his arms. It broke Ozhan's heart to see her like this. She'd always been emotional over little things, but this time he understood what she was going through. 'Cause he was suffering the same.

"Lala is there struggling for his life and we are here. Why are we here?", She sobbed in his chest.

"It's all my fault. But i promise you, everything will be fine. I need you to trust me."

"I do", she sniffed. He removed her from his embrace and wiped her tears.

"How's your head?"

"Not good. How are you?"

"I've been better."

"Great!" She smiled through the tears. "As if Khan family didn't have enough patients, i had to score an injury as well."

"I know right! How jealous could you get of us brothers?!"

She slapped his arm and stood up, looking at him completely. She had to admit, he looked handsome in that dress. She'd mostly seen him in black, so him in all white was certainly a pleasant sight. She could even say that he looked better than Chris Evans did in Defending Jacob and that was saying something.

He took her phone and was disappointed, but not surprised to see that it had no network. "You go freshen up. I'll try to make a call. And also see if i can find some medicine for you."

"Okay."

He stood up, keeping the phone in his pocket. "Lock the door from within and don't open for anyone but me. I shouldn't take long."

She nodded. "You still haven't told me why these people are a danger.

"I'll tell you later", and he went out.

•~•

Damn it! He couldn't find any signal in the premises. The reason was that there was no tower of the network services he used. At least that's what Tanveer had told him.

Why did Abeerah ever think getting Ufone Simm was ever a good idea anyway?

Tanveer had offered him his phone but he still hadn't any idea who he was gonna call, so he politely declined. He could call any of his men, but these people could smell trouble. His men wouldn't be able to pass their invisible borders. And besides, he didn't want to risk a bloody fight with Abeerah around. It was a miracle they hadn't found his gun. But then, their leader wasn't here, so it was understandable that Chaudhary Tanveer and his father were in charge. And how good of job they were doing. He wasn't saying that he wanted for him to be caught. But it was mistake he knew no one in his 'family' would ever do.

Chaudhary Nawaz-ud-Din had gone to a neighbouring village to run some 'errands'. And according to Tanveer, it was their tradition for a guest in their house to have a dinner with the sarpanj. And it didn't take anything to guess that there was no leaving before that. He wasn't a stranger to such 'traditions' after all.

After taking some painkillers from Tanveer, he went to the room and knocked. After confirming it was Ozhan, Abeerah opened the door and he was stunned.

Was it possible to get shocked by someone's beauty even more than the last time they'd seen it?

Apparently, it was.

She looked like a hoor in the traditional Punjabi attire. She was wearing a red patiala shalwar with a thigh length Kameez, a chaffon dupatta heavily bordered in some sort of gold lace was draped on one of her shoulder. She was wearing red glass bangles in one hand while other had her usual black strapped watch and there were small golden jhumkas in her ears. She had tied her hair in a braid, completing the look.

"Did you call someone?" Her question snapped him out of his thoughts.

"No. Uh. . . No network." He took a step closer to her and handed her the medicine and a glass of water, which she swallowed greedily. "Well, aren't you someone's favourite."

"Huh?"

"All the jewelery and stuff. Do they plan to make you bride or what in this bright red?" He said, now annoyed more than ever.

"What, you wanted bangles for yourself?"

"Shut up, Abeerah. I don't like the interest these people are taking in you. Especially that Tanveer's."

"Well, isn't someone jealous." It wasn't meant for Ozhan to hear but he did. And he was furious.

"Not everything is jealousy Abeerah!", he shouted.", Same as like not everything is comic. Just like this situation that we're in isn't. You're trapped here in this mess because of me. I'm supposed to protect you here. You're my responsibility. And i'll be damned before i let someone look at you with foul gaze."

"Okay, i'm sorry", she apologized, being on the brink of tears once again. Ozhan rarely ever got mad at her. She could count on her fingers the number of times he'd actually been angry with her and she wouldn't even have to use both her hands.

He sighed. He realized now wasn't the time to stress her even more. "It's okay. Don't worry. I'm just tensed, is all. Nothing against you, i promise."

He took a corner of her dupatta that was falling freely from her shoulder and drapped it over her head, just like he had done before. Now he had reason to do so. But even if he didn't, she wasn't going to question anyway.

"You still haven't told me why you're so scared."

"Chaudhary Nawaz-ud-Din_"

"Yes?"

"He. . . He well, is first maternal cousin of Shah."

"What?"

•~•

Someone called her name in her sleep. But she didn't want to wake up. She was too comfortable. It was as if she hadn't slept in ages. Which was actually true.

"Layeba, wake up."

She opened her eyes and saw Sanem leaning over her, making her jump a little.

"What time is it?", She asked sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"Seven p.m."

Her eyes went wide. "I slept for nine hours!?" It was more shocking to her than to anyone else. And believe it when when she says everyone else was shook.

"Oh well, you were exhausted. You deserved the rest and a lot more."

"Khair. What are you here for?"

"We're moving Yazaan to a private ward."

"Okay", naturally her gaze went to Yazaan's monitor but to avoid another emotional breakdown, she looked away from it quickly after seeing that everything was fine. "Did Ozhan and Abeerah return?"

Sanem didn't reply, making Layeba look at her concerned. "No. And I can't reach Abeerah's phone either."

"Ya Allah!"

"I'm sure they're okay. Maybe they went to Hunza. You know how there's no network in the mountains." Sanem was just making excuses and they both knew it. "Well, we have another problem at hand."

"What now?", Layeba looked at him, almost pleading her to stop. She'd had enough trouble for an eternity.

"Yazaan's family is here.",

"Great! Anything else is left?" She raised her hands in frustration.

"I'm sorry, honey", Sanem wrapped her arms around her and rubbed her back.

"Which ones are here?"

"Well, i don't exactly know the names. I didn't ask but Bi Jaan is here for one. And two other ladies and one male."

She groaned. She had a gut feeling who the other two ladies were. "Where are they?"

"Well, since no one was allowed to visit him and you were here sleeping, your mother took them to your home after i told her. We didn't want to disturb you."

"How long was this ago?"

"Umm, half an hour ago."

"Okay, i'll go home. Can you assign someone to look after him, please? All the time?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course. You go home. I'll come in an hour or so."

She straightened her clothes, setting her hijab properly and washed her face in the washroom. Her phone rang and she picked seeing as it was from her Phupho.

"Assalam o alaikum, phupho. How are you?"

"I'm good, sweetie. You? I heard about Yazaan? How is he?"

"He'll be alright, inshaAllah. Aap duaa kijiey ga buss."

(You pray for him please.)

"Ofcourse, love. I wanted to visit. Is it allowed yet?"

"No actually, phupho. Visitors are not yet allowed."

"Oh. Okay. I'm sure you're taking good care of him. Well, i'll visit your mom, then. She's at home, right?"

"Yes. Yes, she is. Please do come. I was just going home too."

"Oh great. I'll meet you there too."

"Of course. See you soon. Allah hafiz."

She hung up the phone and groaned loudly.

Just what i needed. My phupho and in-laws to meet in a situation like this! Great!

•~•

Assalam o alikum people! 💕
How are you all?
I'm not that late, am i?
Sorry for that. 🥺

Did you all like the chapter? How was it? Too long? Slow? Just tell me if u thought so. Don't worry about hurting my feelings cuz honestly, i thought so too while writing it. But me being me, wrote it anyway.🙈😂

Soooo, i read ur comments on the last chapter and almost everyone said that i'm planning Ozhan's and Abeerah's nikkah. Is that what you really want?
Let's just give you all a spoiler, shall we? So first i was not planning that. At all. Then i thought maybe i can improvise if that's what you all want. But then i talked to both of them. And let me tell you, they couldn't be more against it. I mean, they've yearned for each other whole their lives. They'd rather wait for a few more chapters for me to develop more feelings than being forced into a nikkah which would just make things awkward between them. Second, they deserve a grand wedding with all the people who mattter to them present. And THIRD, it would take spotlight away from what i originally planned.

Sooo, long spoiler short, they're not gonna get forcefully married. One in this book was enough. But it might be a catalyst. So i'm gonna ask you guys to guess again. What could i be planning?

A hint? It would make you all hate Bi Jaan if you all don't already.

Enough spoilers.🙊

Eeeeeeee.😍😍😍 Layeba is one step closer to loving Yazaan. As much as the chapter focused on Ozhan n Abeerah, i still love Layeba. And that monologue was my favorite part to write🥰🥰🥰

Hey, btw! Did you all miss sarcastic, feisty Layeba? I know i did. Be ready for the next one. It's gonna be with someone you guys might have forgotten about.

Think think.

Anyways. I've rambled too much. Sorry.

Please vote⭐ comment 🖋️, share and follow. And point out the mistakes as always.
Thank you.
Lots of love ❤️❤️❤️
Javeria