from way up there, you and i

Ben feels nervous as he walks up the steps of the brownstone beside Joey. He keeps a safe distance from her, close enough in case she loses her balance, but with enough space that he isn’t overwhelming her.

She’d been discharged from the hospital that day, and he’d offered to bring her here to get clothes if she wanted to go to Avery’s where she’d at least have a familiar face as opposed to a home she didn’t even recognize.

He’d tidied up the place the other day that he was here, after sleeping a near sixteen hours straight. It had been his way of killing time before going back to the hospital, and ended up over cleaning the place, but he’s nervous because it’s her first time back.

He isn’t exactly sure where they stand. Or well, he supposes the distance sort of answers that question.

Still, none of that triggers any kind of flash or spark or anything that would make this man stand out in her mind. It’s like he took it all with him and, as pity, left her behind with only the memory of her brother and things revolving him for solace.

It was jarring to find out her age, what she had accomplished, that she had been married (especially after knowing this wasn’t going to be in the cards for her)—and yet nothing brought him back. She wished, terribly so, that something would, if only to thank him for the kindness he’s shown her and apologize for the evident hurt she’s caused him.

She finds herself in awe of the brownstone they pull up to, the rickety old bug looking out of place against the row of cars on the streets. She had apologized to him, profusely, for having wrecked his truck in the process of whatever brought them to this place.

He can’t imagine how hard this must be for her if he feels like pieces of his heart are shattering every day. Especially when she starts to apologize for things like his truck, and how another apology for not remembering lives on the tip of her tongue. He knows her almost all too well.

“We sort of picked it out together,” he continues carefully. He figures she should at least know the truth, even if it won’t help her remember just yet… or at all.

She hugs the bag a bit tighter against her, a small barrier and tether to what little she remembers, and take a further step into the apartment. She walks over to one of the tables, clearly devoid of things that once rested there. Except for a small trinket she doesn’t remember seeing since she was a kid.

His ears feel like they’re ringing and for a second he feels like screaming. He’s realizing just how much unraveling their is to this whole thing.

“Um…” Ben starts, pausing as he tries to find the right words. “We should… sit down,” he offers, motioning to the couch beside the end table, the one they’d chosen together both on how unlike their old one it was (his choosing), and how cozy it was for naps (“More often than not you fall asleep here, and while I’m worried it’s some narcolepsy thing, you should at least be cozy”; her suggestion).

The memories sting more than he’s been prepared for, but he tries to push all of that down, instead focusing on her as he goes to sit beside her on the couch, leaving some space between them.

Joey blinks back tears as a headache starts to form, the pounding in her head growing as she stares down. Why can’t she remember anything about this but the pain it’s caused her? Why can’t she remember anything else at all?

Ben feels nervous as he walks up the steps of the brownstone beside Joey. He keeps a safe distance from her, close enough in case she loses her balance, but with enough space that he isn’t overwhelming her.

She’d been discharged from the hospital that day, and he’d offered to bring her here to get clothes if she wanted to go to Avery’s where she’d at least have a familiar face as opposed to a home she didn’t even recognize.

He’d tidied up the place the other day that he was here, after sleeping a near sixteen hours straight. It had been his way of killing time before going back to the hospital, and ended up over cleaning the place, but he’s nervous because it’s her first time back.

He isn’t exactly sure where they stand. Or well, he supposes the distance sort of answers that question.

Still, none of that triggers any kind of flash or spark or anything that would make this man stand out in her mind. It’s like he took it all with him and, as pity, left her behind with only the memory of her brother and things revolving him for solace.

It was jarring to find out her age, what she had accomplished, that she had been married (especially after knowing this wasn’t going to be in the cards for her)—and yet nothing brought him back. She wished, terribly so, that something would, if only to thank him for the kindness he’s shown her and apologize for the evident hurt she’s caused him.

She finds herself in awe of the brownstone they pull up to, the rickety old bug looking out of place against the row of cars on the streets. She had apologized to him, profusely, for having wrecked his truck in the process of whatever brought them to this place.

He can’t imagine how hard this must be for her if he feels like pieces of his heart are shattering every day. Especially when she starts to apologize for things like his truck, and how another apology for not remembering lives on the tip of her tongue. He knows her almost all too well.

“We sort of picked it out together,” he continues carefully. He figures she should at least know the truth, even if it won’t help her remember just yet… or at all.

She hugs the bag a bit tighter against her, a small barrier and tether to what little she remembers, and take a further step into the apartment. She walks over to one of the tables, clearly devoid of things that once rested there. Except for a small trinket she doesn't remember seeing since she was a kid.

Ben feels nervous as he walks up the steps of the brownstone beside Joey. He keeps a safe distance from her, close enough in case she loses her balance, but with enough space that he isn’t overwhelming her.

She’d been discharged from the hospital that day, and he’d offered to bring her here to get clothes if she wanted to go to Avery’s where she’d at least have a familiar face as opposed to a home she didn’t even recognize.

He’d tidied up the place the other day that he was here, after sleeping a near sixteen hours straight. It had been his way of killing time before going back to the hospital, and ended up over cleaning the place, but he’s nervous because it’s her first time back.

He isn’t exactly sure where they stand. Or well, he supposes the distance sort of answers that question.

Still, none of that triggers any kind of flash or spark or anything that would make this man stand out in her mind. It’s like he took it all with him and, as pity, left her behind with only the memory of her brother and things revolving him for solace.

It was jarring to find out her age, what she had accomplished, that she had been married (especially after knowing this wasn’t going to be in the cards for her)—and yet nothing brought him back. She wished, terribly so, that something would, if only to thank him for the kindness he’s shown her and apologize for the evident hurt she’s caused him.

She finds herself in awe of the brownstone they pull up to, the rickety old bug looking out of place against the row of cars on the streets. She had apologized to him, profusely, for having wrecked his truck in the process of whatever brought them to this place.

A wise man once said, life can change in an instant. Maybe it was on the inside of a fortune cookie, or in one of those books of quotes. What matters isn’t who said it, what matters is that’s it’s true.

One moment you’re having a great time with your friends and family, the next an uninvited guest crashes the party. Then the yelling happens, and the words get thrown around, and what should have been a joyous occasion suddenly goes down the drain.

Doors slam as an emotional driver makes her getaway, the passenger beside her trying his best to calm her down. But she feels hurt and betrayed and wants nothing to do with the family she left behind. So she drives, without a care in the world, because the only family that matters now is sitting right next to her.

Until she hears tires screeching, feels the impact on her side, and suddenly, in that instant, she loses everything.

Suddenly, life changes.

The first thing Joey feels are the aches, radiating from her body in every which direction. The pounding in her head gets worse and worse with each passing second, causing her to wince. She slowly opens her eyes, hoping to find something, anything to quell the pain.

She sees nothing amidst the blinding light, except for two figures sitting in the chairs beside wherever she is. She shifts, ever so slightly, trying her best to hold back a wince as she takes in her surroundings. There’s something attached to her, weighing her arm down and another thing pinching her finger.

She slowly attempts to reach up but can’t find it in her to move her free arm, so she tries to crane her neck. The pain from the motion shoots through her, causing whatever dull beeping was echoing through the room to grow into a loud sound, making her ears ring.

“Fuck,” she says hoarsely, squinting at the sudden sensory overload. She looks back out at the chair, spotting her brother with his arms and legs still crossed, head back in his sleep. Next to him, sits—

The door flies open as a cheery nurse enters the room, beelining for the stupid machine making all of that stupid noise. “Oh good, you’re finally awake,” she says, pressing some buttons to finally make it shut up.

Joey sighs, settling back against the bed. She’d kiss the woman to thank her if she could actually move. Her brother, on the other hand, jolts awake. The weight on her arm suddenly moves down to her hand and squeezes it, giving her a shock that causes the beeping to become louder once more.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” her brother says, smile on his face as tears fill his eyes. “You gave us quite a scare there Joey.”

She hardly focuses on his words, attention fixated on the hand holding hers. She follows it up, taking in the ring and the scars along the way before she stops at the pair of bright blue eyes that own it.

Ending up here was one of those blink and you’ll miss it moments. One second there’s anger and shouting and trying desperately to ease those two, and then next there’s noise and sirens and quiet.

And for a moment that had been the most horrible experience of his life.

And now… now.

How could you want something to such an extreme degree, and have that very same thing break your heart when it’s finally yours?

—

He swallows hard, throat dry as he searches for words to form a response. He can’t seem to find them. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t believe it, or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

He isn’t sure yet.

“You must be parched, you poor thing,” the nurse says once she’s done with her chart and the machines still hooked onto her. She walks over to the small table to grab the pitcher of water before she pours some into the plastic cup before handing it to Joey.

She hesitates in grabbing it, looking down at the hand still with hers before she slowly pulls it away to attempt to grab it. Even without the weight of his hand on hers, her arm still feels like it’s being pinned down. Still, she musters up whatever strength she can to reach up for it, letting out a breath she had been holding once she manages to get her lips around the straw.

It stings even more when she pulls away.

But he figures he shouldn’t say anything, not yet. He can’t be sure anyway, she could just be disoriented, waking up after such a long time.

It takes her a moment to stop coughing, lying back on the bed with a shallow breath and a wince. “It hurts,” Joey says softly, eyes fluttering closed. She can’t look at the man who helped her, can’t see the flash of pain in his eyes again because something’s wrong and she doesn’t know what yet.

Ben presses his lips together as he watches her face, and figures he shouldn’t try to overwhelm her, especially when she’s clearly disoriented.

“Avery,” she says softly, watching as her brother leans forward in his seat. He places a comforting hand on the edge of the bed, nodding for her to continue. “What happened? Why am I here?”

She watches as he glances over at Ben, a silent conversation happening between the two of them, before looking back at her. “There was an accident. You…you were driving and a car ran a red light. You took the force of the impact. Ben, he…”

This must be how she’s felt every time he’s gotten hurt when she hasn’t been able to stop it.

Avery jumps up from his seat, offering her a comforting hand as she begins to mumble, “I don’t remember that. Why can’t I remember that?” She looks over at him, blinking back tears. “Why can’t I remember that? Why can’t I remember you?”

The nurse returns into the room then, heading straight for the IV attached to her. “Honey, I just need you to calm down,” she says, attaching a syringe to the line before she injects the contents of it inside. “You’re not doing yourself any good getting all worked up.”

“But I don’t know him!” Joey cries, tears slowing down as she starts to feel the effects of whatever she’s been given. “Why don’t I…know him?” She lies back against the pillows, breathing back to normal as Avery reaches for her hands.

He feels like this is all a horrible dream that he can’t wake up on no matter how hard he tries.

Absently, he begins to retreat backward, continuing to move until his back is flat against the wall away from her and closest to the door.

What are they supposed to do now? What is he supposed to do now that the woman he loves with everything he’s ever has forgotten about everything they’ve been through?

The nurse gives Avery’s arm a gentle tap before she peels her gloves off. “It’s just a mild sedative. Should help with the pain and get her calmed down enough to go back to sleep. The doctor will make her rounds shortly. I’ll let her know of this.”

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he walks back over to the edge of the bed where she seems to settle down and give in to the sedative she’s just been given. Because something inside him tells him this isn’t just the fact that she’s disoriented.

His eyes still sting as he gives an apologetic look to Avery.

She slowly turns her back to the side, looking for the pitcher of water and cup she remembers being nearby. Instead, she finds the sleeping form of a short-haired brunette and him.

A wise man once said, life can change in an instant. Maybe it was on the inside of a fortune cookie, or in one of those books of quotes. What matters isn’t who said it, what matters is that’s it’s true.

One moment you’re having a great time with your friends and family, the next an uninvited guest crashes the party. Then the yelling happens, and the words get thrown around, and what should have been a joyous occasion suddenly goes down the drain.

Doors slam as an emotional driver makes her getaway, the passenger beside her trying his best to calm her down. But she feels hurt and betrayed and wants nothing to do with the family she left behind. So she drives, without a care in the world, because the only family that matters now is sitting right next to her.

Until she hears tires screeching, feels the impact on her side, and suddenly, in that instant, she loses everything.

Suddenly, life changes.

The first thing Joey feels are the aches, radiating from her body in every which direction. The pounding in her head gets worse and worse with each passing second, causing her to wince. She slowly opens her eyes, hoping to find something, anything to quell the pain.

She sees nothing amidst the blinding light, except for two figures sitting in the chairs beside wherever she is. She shifts, ever so slightly, trying her best to hold back a wince as she takes in her surroundings. There’s something attached to her, weighing her arm down and another thing pinching her finger.

She slowly attempts to reach up but can’t find it in her to move her free arm, so she tries to crane her neck. The pain from the motion shoots through her, causing whatever dull beeping was echoing through the room to grow into a loud sound, making her ears ring.

“Fuck,” she says hoarsely, squinting at the sudden sensory overload. She looks back out at the chair, spotting her brother with his arms and legs still crossed, head back in his sleep. Next to him, sits—

The door flies open as a cheery nurse enters the room, beelining for the stupid machine making all of that stupid noise. “Oh good, you’re finally awake,” she says, pressing some buttons to finally make it shut up.

Joey sighs, settling back against the bed. She’d kiss the woman to thank her if she could actually move. Her brother, on the other hand, jolts awake. The weight on her arm suddenly moves down to her hand and squeezes it, giving her a shock that causes the beeping to become louder once more.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” her brother says, smile on his face as tears fill his eyes. “You gave us quite a scare there Joey.”

She hardly focuses on his words, attention fixated on the hand holding hers. She follows it up, taking in the ring and the scars along the way before she stops at the pair of bright blue eyes that own it.

Ending up here was one of those blink and you’ll miss it moments. One second there’s anger and shouting and trying desperately to ease those two, and then next there’s noise and sirens and quiet.

And for a moment that had been the most horrible experience of his life.

And now… now.

How could you want something to such an extreme degree, and have that very same thing break your heart when it’s finally yours?

—

He swallows hard, throat dry as he searches for words to form a response. He can’t seem to find them. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t believe it, or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

He isn’t sure yet.

“You must be parched, you poor thing,” the nurse says once she’s done with her chart and the machines still hooked onto her. She walks over to the small table to grab the pitcher of water before she pours some into the plastic cup before handing it to Joey.

She hesitates in grabbing it, looking down at the hand still with hers before she slowly pulls it away to attempt to grab it. Even without the weight of his hand on hers, her arm still feels like it’s being pinned down. Still, she musters up whatever strength she can to reach up for it, letting out a breath she had been holding once she manages to get her lips around the straw.

It stings even more when she pulls away.

But he figures he shouldn’t say anything, not yet. He can’t be sure anyway, she could just be disoriented, waking up after such a long time.

It takes her a moment to stop coughing, lying back on the bed with a shallow breath and a wince. “It hurts,” Joey says softly, eyes fluttering closed. She can’t look at the man who helped her, can’t see the flash of pain in his eyes again because something’s wrong and she doesn’t know what yet.

Ben presses his lips together as he watches her face, and figures he shouldn’t try to overwhelm her, especially when she’s clearly disoriented.

“Avery,” she says softly, watching as her brother leans forward in his seat. He places a comforting hand on the edge of the bed, nodding for her to continue. “What happened? Why am I here?”

She watches as he glances over at Ben, a silent conversation happening between the two of them, before looking back at her. “There was an accident. You…you were driving and a car ran a red light. You took the force of the impact. Ben, he…”

This must be how she’s felt every time he’s gotten hurt when she hasn’t been able to stop it.

Avery jumps up from his seat, offering her a comforting hand as she begins to mumble, “I don’t remember that. Why can’t I remember that?” She looks over at him, blinking back tears. “Why can’t I remember that? Why can’t I remember you?”

The nurse returns into the room then, heading straight for the IV attached to her. “Honey, I just need you to calm down,” she says, attaching a syringe to the line before she injects the contents of it inside. “You’re not doing yourself any good getting all worked up.”

“But I don’t know him!” Joey cries, tears slowing down as she starts to feel the effects of whatever she’s been given. “Why don’t I…know him?” She lies back against the pillows, breathing back to normal as Avery reaches for her hands.

He feels like this is all a horrible dream that he can’t wake up on no matter how hard he tries.

Absently, he begins to retreat backward, continuing to move until his back is flat against the wall away from her and closest to the door.

What are they supposed to do now? What is he supposed to do now that the woman he loves with everything he’s ever has forgotten about everything they’ve been through?

The nurse gives Avery’s arm a gentle tap before she peels her gloves off. “It’s just a mild sedative. Should help with the pain and get her calmed down enough to go back to sleep. The doctor will make her rounds shortly. I’ll let her know of this.”

A wise man once said, life can change in an instant. Maybe it was on the inside of a fortune cookie, or in one of those books of quotes. What matters isn’t who said it, what matters is that’s it’s true.

One moment you’re having a great time with your friends and family, the next an uninvited guest crashes the party. Then the yelling happens, and the words get thrown around, and what should have been a joyous occasion suddenly goes down the drain.

Doors slam as an emotional driver makes her getaway, the passenger beside her trying his best to calm her down. But she feels hurt and betrayed and wants nothing to do with the family she left behind. So she drives, without a care in the world, because the only family that matters now is sitting right next to her.

Until she hears tires screeching, feels the impact on her side, and suddenly, in that instant, she loses everything.

Suddenly, life changes.

The first thing Joey feels are the aches, radiating from her body in every which direction. The pounding in her head gets worse and worse with each passing second, causing her to wince. She slowly opens her eyes, hoping to find something, anything to quell the pain.

She sees nothing amidst the blinding light, except for two figures sitting in the chairs beside wherever she is. She shifts, ever so slightly, trying her best to hold back a wince as she takes in her surroundings. There’s something attached to her, weighing her arm down and another thing pinching her finger.

She slowly attempts to reach up but can’t find it in her to move her free arm, so she tries to crane her neck. The pain from the motion shoots through her, causing whatever dull beeping was echoing through the room to grow into a loud sound, making her ears ring.

“Fuck,” she says hoarsely, squinting at the sudden sensory overload. She looks back out at the chair, spotting her brother with his arms and legs still crossed, head back in his sleep. Next to him, sits—

The door flies open as a cheery nurse enters the room, beelining for the stupid machine making all of that stupid noise. “Oh good, you’re finally awake,” she says, pressing some buttons to finally make it shut up.

Joey sighs, settling back against the bed. She’d kiss the woman to thank her if she could actually move. Her brother, on the other hand, jolts awake. The weight on her arm suddenly moves down to her hand and squeezes it, giving her a shock that causes the beeping to become louder once more.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” her brother says, smile on his face as tears fill his eyes. “You gave us quite a scare there Joey.”

She hardly focuses on his words, attention fixated on the hand holding hers. She follows it up, taking in the ring and the scars along the way before she stops at the pair of bright blue eyes that own it.

Ending up here was one of those blink and you’ll miss it moments. One second there’s anger and shouting and trying desperately to ease those two, and then next there’s noise and sirens and quiet.

And for a moment that had been the most horrible experience of his life.

And now… now.

How could you want something to such an extreme degree, and have that very same thing break your heart when it’s finally yours?

—

He swallows hard, throat dry as he searches for words to form a response. He can’t seem to find them. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t believe it, or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

He isn’t sure yet.

“You must be parched, you poor thing,” the nurse says once she’s done with her chart and the machines still hooked onto her. She walks over to the small table to grab the pitcher of water before she pours some into the plastic cup before handing it to Joey.

She hesitates in grabbing it, looking down at the hand still with hers before she slowly pulls it away to attempt to grab it. Even without the weight of his hand on hers, her arm still feels like it’s being pinned down. Still, she musters up whatever strength she can to reach up for it, letting out a breath she had been holding once she manages to get her lips around the straw.

It stings even more when she pulls away.

But he figures he shouldn’t say anything, not yet. He can’t be sure anyway, she could just be disoriented, waking up after such a long time.

It takes her a moment to stop coughing, lying back on the bed with a shallow breath and a wince. “It hurts,” Joey says softly, eyes fluttering closed. She can’t look at the man who helped her, can’t see the flash of pain in his eyes again because something’s wrong and she doesn’t know what yet.

Ben presses his lips together as he watches her face, and figures he shouldn’t try to overwhelm her, especially when she’s clearly disoriented.

“Avery,” she says softly, watching as her brother leans forward in his seat. He places a comforting hand on the edge of the bed, nodding for her to continue. “What happened? Why am I here?”

She watches as he glances over at Ben, a silent conversation happening between the two of them, before looking back at her. “There was an accident. You…you were driving and a car ran a red light. You took the force of the impact. Ben, he…”

This must be how she’s felt every time he’s gotten hurt when she hasn’t been able to stop it.

Avery jumps up from his seat, offering her a comforting hand as she begins to mumble, “I don’t remember that. Why can’t I remember that?” She looks over at him, blinking back tears. “Why can’t I remember that? Why can’t I remember you?”

The nurse returns into the room then, heading straight for the IV attached to her. “Honey, I just need you to calm down,” she says, attaching a syringe to the line before she injects the contents of it inside. “You’re not doing yourself any good getting all worked up.”

“But I don’t know him!” Joey cries, tears slowing down as she starts to feel the effects of whatever she’s been given. “Why don’t I...know him?” She lies back against the pillows, breathing back to normal as Avery reaches for her hands.

A wise man once said, life can change in an instant. Maybe it was on the inside of a fortune cookie, or in one of those books of quotes. What matters isn’t who said it, what matters is that’s it’s true.

One moment you’re having a great time with your friends and family, the next an uninvited guest crashes the party. Then the yelling happens, and the words get thrown around, and what should have been a joyous occasion suddenly goes down the drain.

Doors slam as an emotional driver makes her getaway, the passenger beside her trying his best to calm her down. But she feels hurt and betrayed and wants nothing to do with the family she left behind. So she drives, without a care in the world, because the only family that matters now is sitting right next to her.

Until she hears tires screeching, feels the impact on her side, and suddenly, in that instant, she loses everything.

Suddenly, life changes.

The first thing Joey feels are the aches, radiating from her body in every which direction. The pounding in her head gets worse and worse with each passing second, causing her to wince. She slowly opens her eyes, hoping to find something, anything to quell the pain.

She sees nothing amidst the blinding light, except for two figures sitting in the chairs beside wherever she is. She shifts, ever so slightly, trying her best to hold back a wince as she takes in her surroundings. There’s something attached to her, weighing her arm down and another thing pinching her finger.

She slowly attempts to reach up but can’t find it in her to move her free arm, so she tries to crane her neck. The pain from the motion shoots through her, causing whatever dull beeping was echoing through the room to grow into a loud sound, making her ears ring.

“Fuck,” she says hoarsely, squinting at the sudden sensory overload. She looks back out at the chair, spotting her brother with his arms and legs still crossed, head back in his sleep. Next to him, sits—

The door flies open as a cheery nurse enters the room, beelining for the stupid machine making all of that stupid noise. “Oh good, you’re finally awake,” she says, pressing some buttons to finally make it shut up.

Joey sighs, settling back against the bed. She’d kiss the woman to thank her if she could actually move. Her brother, on the other hand, jolts awake. The weight on her arm suddenly moves down to her hand and squeezes it, giving her a shock that causes the beeping to become louder once more.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” her brother says, smile on his face as tears fill his eyes. “You gave us quite a scare there Joey.”

She hardly focuses on his words, attention fixated on the hand holding hers. She follows it up, taking in the ring and the scars along the way before she stops at the pair of bright blue eyes that own it.

Ending up here was one of those blink and you’ll miss it moments. One second there’s anger and shouting and trying desperately to ease those two, and then next there’s noise and sirens and quiet.

And for a moment that had been the most horrible experience of his life.

And now… now.

How could you want something to such an extreme degree, and have that very same thing break your heart when it’s finally yours?

—

He swallows hard, throat dry as he searches for words to form a response. He can’t seem to find them. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t believe it, or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

He isn’t sure yet.

“You must be parched, you poor thing,” the nurse says once she’s done with her chart and the machines still hooked onto her. She walks over to the small table to grab the pitcher of water before she pours some into the plastic cup before handing it to Joey.

She hesitates in grabbing it, looking down at the hand still with hers before she slowly pulls it away to attempt to grab it. Even without the weight of his hand on hers, her arm still feels like it’s being pinned down. Still, she musters up whatever strength she can to reach up for it, letting out a breath she had been holding once she manages to get her lips around the straw.

It stings even more when she pulls away.

But he figures he shouldn’t say anything, not yet. He can’t be sure anyway, she could just be disoriented, waking up after such a long time.

It takes her a moment to stop coughing, lying back on the bed with a shallow breath and a wince. “It hurts,” Joey says softly, eyes fluttering closed. She can’t look at the man who helped her, can’t see the flash of pain in his eyes again because something’s wrong and she doesn’t know what yet.

Ben presses his lips together as he watches her face, and figures he shouldn’t try to overwhelm her, especially when she’s clearly disoriented.

“Avery,” she says softly, watching as her brother leans forward in his seat. He places a comforting hand on the edge of the bed, nodding for her to continue. “What happened? Why am I here?”

She watches as he glances over at Ben, a silent conversation happening between the two of them, before looking back at her. “There was an accident. You...you were driving and a car ran a red light. You took the force of the impact. Ben, he...”

A wise man once said, life can change in an instant. Maybe it was on the inside of a fortune cookie, or in one of those books of quotes. What matters isn’t who said it, what matters is that’s it’s true.

One moment you’re having a great time with your friends and family, the next an uninvited guest crashes the party. Then the yelling happens, and the words get thrown around, and what should have been a joyous occasion suddenly goes down the drain.

Doors slam as an emotional driver makes her getaway, the passenger beside her trying his best to calm her down. But she feels hurt and betrayed and wants nothing to do with the family she left behind. So she drives, without a care in the world, because the only family that matters now is sitting right next to her.

Until she hears tires screeching, feels the impact on her side, and suddenly, in that instant, she loses everything.

Suddenly, life changes.

The first thing Joey feels are the aches, radiating from her body in every which direction. The pounding in her head gets worse and worse with each passing second, causing her to wince. She slowly opens her eyes, hoping to find something, anything to quell the pain.

She sees nothing amidst the blinding light, except for two figures sitting in the chairs beside wherever she is. She shifts, ever so slightly, trying her best to hold back a wince as she takes in her surroundings. There’s something attached to her, weighing her arm down and another thing pinching her finger.

She slowly attempts to reach up but can’t find it in her to move her free arm, so she tries to crane her neck. The pain from the motion shoots through her, causing whatever dull beeping was echoing through the room to grow into a loud sound, making her ears ring.

“Fuck,” she says hoarsely, squinting at the sudden sensory overload. She looks back out at the chair, spotting her brother with his arms and legs still crossed, head back in his sleep. Next to him, sits—

The door flies open as a cheery nurse enters the room, beelining for the stupid machine making all of that stupid noise. “Oh good, you’re finally awake,” she says, pressing some buttons to finally make it shut up.

Joey sighs, settling back against the bed. She’d kiss the woman to thank her if she could actually move. Her brother, on the other hand, jolts awake. The weight on her arm suddenly moves down to her hand and squeezes it, giving her a shock that causes the beeping to become louder once more.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” her brother says, smile on his face as tears fill his eyes. “You gave us quite a scare there Joey.”

She hardly focuses on his words, attention fixated on the hand holding hers. She follows it up, taking in the ring and the scars along the way before she stops at the pair of bright blue eyes that own it.

Ending up here was one of those blink and you’ll miss it moments. One second there’s anger and shouting and trying desperately to ease those two, and then next there’s noise and sirens and quiet.

And for a moment that had been the most horrible experience of his life.

And now… now.

How could you want something to such an extreme degree, and have that very same thing break your heart when it’s finally yours?

—

He swallows hard, throat dry as he searches for words to form a response. He can’t seem to find them. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t believe it, or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

He isn’t sure yet.

“You must be parched, you poor thing,” the nurse says once she’s done with her chart and the machines still hooked onto her. She walks over to the small table to grab the pitcher of water before she pours some into the plastic cup before handing it to Joey.

She hesitates in grabbing it, looking down at the hand still with hers before she slowly pulls it away to attempt to grab it. Even without the weight of his hand on hers, her arm still feels like it’s being pinned down. Still, she musters up whatever strength she can to reach up for it, letting out a breath she had been holding once she manages to get her lips around the straw.

It stings even more when she pulls away.

But he figures he shouldn’t say anything, not yet. He can’t be sure anyway, she could just be disoriented, waking up after such a long time.

It takes her a moment to stop coughing, lying back on the bed with a shallow breath and a wince. “It hurts,” Joey says softly, eyes fluttering closed. She can’t look at the man who helped her, can’t see the flash of pain in his eyes again because something’s wrong and she doesn’t know what yet.

A wise man once said, life can change in an instant. Maybe it was on the inside of a fortune cookie, or in one of those books of quotes. What matters isn’t who said it, what matters is that’s it’s true.

One moment you’re having a great time with your friends and family, the next an uninvited guest crashes the party. Then the yelling happens, and the words get thrown around, and what should have been a joyous occasion suddenly goes down the drain.

Doors slam as an emotional driver makes her getaway, the passenger beside her trying his best to calm her down. But she feels hurt and betrayed and wants nothing to do with the family she left behind. So she drives, without a care in the world, because the only family that matters now is sitting right next to her.

Until she hears tires screeching, feels the impact on her side, and suddenly, in that instant, she loses everything.

Suddenly, life changes.

The first thing Joey feels are the aches, radiating from her body in every which direction. The pounding in her head gets worse and worse with each passing second, causing her to wince. She slowly opens her eyes, hoping to find something, anything to quell the pain.

She sees nothing amidst the blinding light, except for two figures sitting in the chairs beside wherever she is. She shifts, ever so slightly, trying her best to hold back a wince as she takes in her surroundings. There’s something attached to her, weighing her arm down and another thing pinching her finger.

She slowly attempts to reach up but can’t find it in her to move her free arm, so she tries to crane her neck. The pain from the motion shoots through her, causing whatever dull beeping was echoing through the room to grow into a loud sound, making her ears ring.

“Fuck,” she says hoarsely, squinting at the sudden sensory overload. She looks back out at the chair, spotting her brother with his arms and legs still crossed, head back in his sleep. Next to him, sits—

The door flies open as a cheery nurse enters the room, beelining for the stupid machine making all of that stupid noise. “Oh good, you’re finally awake,” she says, pressing some buttons to finally make it shut up.

Joey sighs, settling back against the bed. She’d kiss the woman to thank her if she could actually move. Her brother, on the other hand, jolts awake. The weight on her arm suddenly moves down to her hand and squeezes it, giving her a shock that causes the beeping to become louder once more.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” her brother says, smile on his face as tears fill his eyes. “You gave us quite a scare there Joey.”

She hardly focuses on his words, attention fixated on the hand holding hers. She follows it up, taking in the ring and the scars along the way before she stops at the pair of bright blue eyes that own it.

Ending up here was one of those blink and you’ll miss it moments. One second there’s anger and shouting and trying desperately to ease those two, and then next there’s noise and sirens and quiet.

And for a moment that had been the most horrible experience of his life.

And now… now.

How could you want something to such an extreme degree, and have that very same thing break your heart when it’s finally yours?

—

He swallows hard, throat dry as he searches for words to form a response. He can’t seem to find them. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t believe it, or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

He isn’t sure yet.

“You must be parched, you poor thing,” the nurse says once she’s done with her chart and the machines still hooked onto her. She walks over to the small table to grab the pitcher of water before she pours some into the plastic cup before handing it to Joey.

She hesitates in grabbing it, looking down at the hand still with hers before she slowly pulls it away to attempt to grab it. Even without the weight of his hand on hers, her arm still feels like it’s being pinned down. Still, she musters up whatever strength she can to reach up for it, letting out a breath she had been holding once she manages to get her lips around the straw.