Kat opened her eyes for a brief, blurry moment, and waves of pain and nausea surged through her trembling body. A face swam above her, lips moving, their words overpowered by the ringing in her ears. Lights smeared and slid in and out of focus, dizzying and blinding.

She slipped back into the dark.

The next time she woke, her head pulsed with pressure. Her thoughts clotted and melted, refusing to solidify. Blearily, she noticed the pollen-colored walls and the hospital bed below her. Lights glared above, and she winced. She tried to sit up and slumped sideways. Her right arm was in a sling.An IV drooped in her left wrist.Limbs heavy, she peeled back the sheet to inspect the rest of her body.

A cast encased her left foot and half of her calf, white and stiff.

Oh.

Her fingers drifted up to her head and brushed gauze. A thick pad rested above her right eyebrow, and even her feathery touch raised goosebumps. A dawning sense of fragility stopped her from investigating much further.

She slid her fingers through her hair, oddly pleased they hadn’t needed to shave it. But beneath the swirl of hazy emotions, one kept rising to the surface. Worry. Slippery, shapeless, and looming. She couldn’t grasp it and instead continued taking inventory of her body.

A few bruises spotted her limbs. She cautiously opened and closed her right hand, and the simple effort made her fingers tremble. A dark bruise ringed her wrist like a gruesome bracelet.

The worry deepened, solidifying into a cloud

A soft snore tugged her attention from the tempest brewing inside. Darius sat hunched in a plastic chair, a bouquet drooping from his hand. His head lolled forward against his chest. Kat watched him sleep for a moment, then let her gaze drift back to the cast on her foot, trying to recall exactly what had happened.

She remembered falling, the bright flash of pain, and a chaotic jumble of red and white, but nothing else.

Pain... she squinted at the IV bag, but the letters sagged. She squinted, and the effect worsened, spiking pain through her head.

She ghosted her fingers across the gauze again. Perhaps drugs weren’t the only reason for her sluggish thoughts.

Darius’s elbow slipped off his knee, and he startled awake, jarring a few daisy petals from the bouquet. His expression flashed from confusion to panic to relief as his gaze landed on Kat. He dropped the bouquet near her feet and clasped her good hand, mindful of the IV in it.

“Oh, thank God you’re awake! I didn’t mean to fall asleep—are you okay? No, of course, you’re not, stupid question. Are you in pain? Do you need the doctor? What can I do?” Tears shone in his red-rimmed eyes.

Kat stared at him. His questions tangled into one big bundle of noise. She tried to make sense of it and then gave up. The mud in her head was too thick.

He watched her, waiting for a response.

“There goes my record,” she said at last, closing her eyes.

“...Record?” He leaned in. “What record? Sweetheart, are you sure you don’t want me to get a nurse?”

“Broken bones,” Kat mumbled.

He nodded sadly. “Yes. Several. The doctor said you were very lucky your collarbone and wrist didn’t break, but it’s a nasty sprain. Your foot, though... dear heart, it’s bad.”

Kat winced and opened one eye. “Record’s... broken now, like my foot. I told you... I’d never broken a bone. But now I have.”

Darius bit his cheek, watching her closely. “You’ve got a concussion, too, darling.” He said, speaking more slowly and clearly. “They’re not sure how bad it is yet.”

“...What happened?” Kat asked, squinting at the lights. “I remember... leaving my apartment and then falling. But everything else is missing.”

“The doctor said that might happen. It’s common with head injuries.” Darius took a deep breath.

“The... the railing broke. The paramedics think you hit your head first, probably on the stairs or the rail itself, and then you fell twelve feet and landed on your foot. You probably tried to grab something on the way down; that’s how your wrist got wrenched up. Your heel...” he swallowed hard before continuing.

“It shattered on impact. It was a miracle they could operate, with the swelling... the surgery took hours,” he swallowed hard. “Kat, I... I’m so sorry—“

He snapped his mouth shut as Kat’s face crumpled.

“Paramedics. Hospital. Surgery. I can’t afford this... I’m busted.” Kat bit back a sob. Months of working every spare hour she could get, of scrimping and saving for tuition, gone.

“Hey, hey, Kat, look at me, okay? Don’t cry. The railing broke. That’s your landlord’s fault, not yours. You don’t have to pay a dime. I’ll make sure of it, even if I have to pay it myself.” He said fiercely. “Leave everything to me.”

“It was my fault,” Kat insisted. “I vaulted it... I broke it, and now I’m broken, and I can’t work like this. I’m supposed to be at work—” she cut off and tugged her hand free to press her palm against her eye.

“No, no. Relax, sh sh shh.” Darius’s hand brushed against her cheek. “I’ve already figured it out, alright? I called your manager and explained everything. Try not to stress, okay? It’s bad for your head.”

“Cami—”

“Don’t worry about Cami. I left her a message.”

The world was spinning, but one thing was steady.

 “Thank you, Darius.” She squeezed his hand and then sank back into the pillows. Hot tears prickled in her eyes, still refusing to leave.

“I’m a mess.” She said shakily.

“A lovely mess,” Darius said soothingly, tracing his fingers across the back of her hand.

“I must look like... a can of spaghetti sauce that someone ran over.” Kat moaned. A dark cloud of worry loomed in her thoughts, but the active conversation kept it from turning into a storm. Barely.

“Um. Hm. No, I don’t think so.” He said.

“Like a pumpkin that someone dropped onto a broken jar of raspberry jam.” Words were becoming harder and harder to form, not on her tongue but in her head. Disconcerted, Kat cut herself off.

“I’m going to get the doctor.” Darius started to rise.

“...Darius, what am I going to do? Doesn’t it take at least six weeks for a broken bone to heal?” She asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Six to eight weeks. And it’s going to take your brain a while, too. Your arm should only take about a week.” His thumbs massaged her hand. “So that’s good.”

“I won’t even be able to use crutches with my hand injured.” Kat realized with a muted thrill of alarm. “How am I doing to do anything?”

“You won’t have to. I’ll look after you while you recover.” He went on. “I’ll pick up your medication and help you get around, the whole nine yards. I promise I’ll take really good care of you.” Darius scooted closer and locked her in his fervent, earnest gaze.

His hands were hot against hers.

Kat suddenly felt very tired. “No. But... what about your job? It’s going to be so much work, and I have to go home. You can’t.”

“I can. I want to. I will.” He kissed the back of her hand. “You just leave everything to me.”