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   Sam yawns mid-flip, free hand coming up to cover her mouth, and she all but chokes on her own spit, jolting when her phone begins buzzing on the other side of the bed. Sam goes to reach for it but misjudges the distance and she’s all but lying on her arms. On the second ring she almost has it, fingers barely brushing it as her arm, half-asleep worms out from beneath her. She overshoots it, ends up knocking her phone clear off the foot of her bed, and she hisses both at the sound of her still vibrating phone hitting the floor and at the pins and needles shooting up to her shoulder.

   “Dammit,” she mutters, using her elbows to drag herself over to the side before pawing at hardwood. She ends up hanging half off the bed with another quiet curse, and she can feel her heart beat a little faster as she checks the ID. It isn’t dread that it’s Josh calling, of all people, but rather that everything comes flooding back them, and her unfocused mind suddenly zeroes in again. All the constant reminders start nagging at her — the scarf on her closet door is Beth’s, this song is one Hannah played on her birthday, there’s a picture of her with the twins on her bookshelf, Josh behind the camera.

   She takes a breath, realizing she doesn’t have all that long before the calling goes to voicemail, and slides her thumb across the screen, still hanging off the bed.

His grip on the phone tightens, and he sits down on the porch, wrapping his free arm around himself. “I don’t want to bother you or anything, but you’re the only one I could think of, Sammy. You’re the only one who understands. If it’s not a good time or anything, I get it, but if you can...c-could you please just come over or something? I really need somebody to be here right now.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sammy. I know you better than you think; probably even better than Hannah knows you. I mean, let’s be real, you guys tell each other everything, but she doesn’t usually pick up on stuff like this. That’s just not something she’s learned how to do yet, but I learned it ages ago, and you’re pretty damn easy to read when you know what to look for. Look, you’re obviously doing your best to hide it, but you’re definitely not fine, and I know it.” Josh replied, sitting down beside her. “Now, I’m going to ask you again, and I want an honest answer. What’s going on?”

Josh starting to babble is a bad sign. Josh talks too much when things are going wrong, and it only gets progressively worse. The fact that Josh has started in on it is making Chris queasier.

                      “Aw, buddy.                                “You watch too many horror flicks,” Chris tells him with a short chuckle, smiling for his best friend.

The ambulance comes to a stop, and Chris looks around as the EMT moves to the head of the gurney. The doors open, and the woman looks at him and snaps her fingers to get his attention.

               “I’m gonna need you to hold that there while we get him inside, okay?                                                        “He’s going straight into surgery.”

Chris doesn’t comment, only gets up and lets the EMTs wheel the gurney to the ground, following after them and jogging sideways, awkwardly keeping up with them and holding the towel to Josh’s gut. As they move through doors, he watches Josh’s face, smiling as encouragingly as he can.

       “We’ll take it from here,” someone in scrubs says, putting their hands over his on the towel.

Someone else sets a hand on his shoulder, keeping him back as Josh is wheeled through another set of doors, and Chris takes a deep breath.

“See, Cochise? I told you I’d be fine,” he says with a smirk, hoping this won’t be as awkward as he expects it to be. He’s not good at handling situations like this. When his expression remains serious, he sighs, looking away. 

        “No way. I read somewhere that, like,                             “you can lose a crap ton of blood before you actually die,” he tells him, realizing belatedly that it’s not actually very encouraging.

His heart stings at the mention of Hannah, and Chris smiles weakly, shaking his head. The EMT sets an oxygen mask over Josh’s nose and mouth, and the blond takes a shaky breath.

                  “It’s okay, bro,” Chris murmurs, nauseated as his hands warm with Josh’s blood.

“Good. I don’t want to let her down, you know? She deserves better than that.”

Redirecting his attention to the bloody towel, he frowns again. 

                                                               “Please, he’s my best friend,” the blond informs them, serious and getting anxious himself.

The EMT relinquishes, and waves him to get inside. After Chris obliges, climbing in quickly, he sits where the other EMT gestures as the doors close and secure. She takes the bloody scarf from him and tucks in in a bag before going back to checking Josh’s vital signs.

                       “Hey, okay,” Chris says quietly, taking Josh’s hand and holding it in both of his.                                “Ha, the professionals are on it.”

His jaw snaps shut when Josh grabs his hand, and he quiets, letting him squeeze it. He can hear the sirens in the distance, and clenches his jaw before he speaks again.

        “Okay, but we’re gonna get you to the hospital.                                                               “Okay, buddy? Hey.”

He squeezes Josh’s hand back, looking up at him with determination, shoulders squared. He rises, stepping in closer so he can still hold the scarf to the Washington boy’s middle.

                 “I’m coming with you, bro,” Chris tells him lowly.

He’s astounded by the sight of the ambulance already turning the corner, and gives Josh’s hand one last squeeze before he pulls it away to raise in the air, signaling the van toward them. When it stops, the driver and passenger climb out and come to inspect the damage, nudging a reluctant Chris to get out of the way while they hammer Josh with questions and demand explanations. They’re still talking to him when they help him up and open up the back of the ambulance.

        “I’m going with him,” Chris has to tell one of the EMTs, but the man shakes his head.

                 “You family?”

He looks over at Chris, then back to the EMT with barely concealed fear in his eyes. The initial shock from the fall has finally worn off, and he knows that in his current mental state, bleeding and surrounded by strangers, he'll almost definitely have a meltdown.

                                  “You friggin’ idiot,” he says through more laughter,                    “ohhhh my god, I can’t believe you.”

Lifting his head up, he’s grinning mischievously, shaking his head.

                                                      “So, what—              “you thought going for a walk would be a good idea after that?”

The blond pinches Josh’s uninjured side, frowning at him, humor gone.

“Holy shit...” He looks back up at Chris with an unreadable expression on his face. “Shit, I could’ve fucking died...”

He reaches out for his best friend’s hand, needing something to keep him focused and grounded in reality.

“Don’t lie to me, Sammy. I know you better than you think; probably even better than Hannah knows you. I mean, let’s be real, you guys tell each other everything, but she doesn’t usually pick up on stuff like this. That’s just not something she’s learned how to do yet, but I learned it ages ago, and you’re pretty damn easy to read when you know what to look for. Look, you’re obviously doing your best to hide it, but you’re definitely not fine, and I know it.” Josh replied, sitting down beside her. “Now, I’m going to ask you again, and I want an honest answer. What’s going on?”