“Violet?” It comes out as a rasp.

Her eyes pop open, and she sits up. “Alex? Are you okay?”

“Can we get the nurse?” The words slur together.

Violet strokes my hair. “You in pain?”

“Yeah.”

She presses the button, not to call the nurse, but to release a dose of painkillers. I’d forgotten we don’t need the nurse for that.

Violet sits on the edge of the bed, stroking my hair. It feels nice. The medication is starting to work. She presses her warm lips to my forehead. “I love you, Alex.” She moves as though to get up.

I grab her wrist. “Lie with me.”

She looks at the bed. There’s hardly any room for her, but I don’t want her away from me.

“I don’t know that the nurse will like that,” she says.

“Fuck the nurse.”

“She’s not really my type. I prefer dick, yours specifically.”

I smile, even though it ramps up the pain in my face. I tug her wrist, and she swings her feet up, carefully stretching out beside me. She adjusts the covers, easing one leg over mine because there really isn’t room for two bodies in this bed. She’s right up against the bedrail, but at least she’s not out of reach anymore.

She settles her head on my chest, and I suck in a breath as the pressure causes a sharp pain to shoot down my side.

“Are you okay? Am I hurting you? Maybe I should go back to the cot.”

“No.” I keep my arm around her.

“Alex.”

“No.”

“You’re so stubborn.” She eases back down, but puts her head in the crook of my arm and my shoulder, which doesn’t cause pain.

I grunt because she’s right. I want to tell her I already spend half my nights without her beside me, and I’m not willing to lose more, but the medication is making me groggy again, so I close my eyes instead.

The next time the nurse comes in to check on me, she gives me a look. I’m holding Violet’s boob, and her hand is conveniently covering my dick. Whatever. I don’t care. I have what I need right beside me.

My sleep is repeatedly broken, and I’m exhausted and in even more pain when the sun starts to come up. Every time I wake, I’m confused again, and I have to wait for some of my memories to return. At least I can remember who I am and who Violet is, but except what people have told me, I still have nothing tying me to why I’m lying in this bed.

I’ve taken a hit before, but the memories have always come back, even if it took a while. That I still have nothing from this one is scary. I’m aware that too many hits is bad news.

My parents stop by early in the morning. Violet’s still half-asleep, curled up along my side, as they enter the room. I’m still holding her boob. I move my hand to her ribs and give a slight squeeze. She nuzzles me, and the hand tucked under her chin unfurls and smooths down my chest. I don’t have an extra one available stop her from sliding her fingers under the sheets and grabbing my semi-hard junk. I’m in too much pain for a real hard-on, thankfully.

“Violet, baby, wake up. My parents are here.”

Her eyes fly open, and she retracts her hand like she’s been bitten by my dick. “Robbie! Daisy! Hi!” Violet pushes up to a sitting position, throwing the covers off. Which would be fine, since she’s completely dressed, except that my hospital gown has ridden up during the night, and now my semi is on display.

My mom gasps and turns away.

My dad lifts his eyes to the ceiling while Violet pulls my gown down and the sheets back up, mouthing Shit. Sorry! at me. I’m too medicated to care, but she looks embarrassed.

Getting off the bed is more awkward for her than it should be, but she’s flustered, so she’s even more uncoordinated than usual. She’s coordinated as hell in the bedroom, but outside of it… not so much.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She hugs my dad, who squeezes her tight.

“I wish it was under less distressing circumstances, but I’m glad we’re here, too.” He’s looking at me, his concern obvious.

My mom stands with her palm covering her mouth, and tears track streaks of black mascara down her cheeks. I must really look like hell.

She hurries over, her hands fluttering in the air around my face. “My baby! Oh, God.” She looks like she wants to touch me, but she’s afraid to. “That’s going to leave a scar. Robbie? Will that leave a scar?” She’s motioning to my face.

“I’m sure they had a plastic surgeon do that, honey. You’ll hardly know it happened in a couple of years.” My dad goes back to whisper-talking to Violet.

“But the wedding! We’ll have to cover it.”

She’s been here less than a minute, and already we’re on to the wedding business. I look at Violet to see her reaction, but she doesn’t seem to have caught it since she’s close-talking with my dad.

“They have Photoshop now, Mom, and we don’t even have a date set.”

“If you’d gone to the Olympics like you should’ve, your beautiful face wouldn’t look like this.”

“Daisy!” my dad snaps.

Oh, shit. The last thing I need is my parents arguing, or Violet having to listen to my mom’s projected lost dreams.

Violet disengages from my dad, and her expression reflects a lot of things: concern, stress, anxiety, fear, love. “Daisy, you must be exhausted. Can I get you something from the cafeteria? Maybe you’d like to come with me?” She looks to me. “Alex, do you need anything?”