It wasn't the first time Roy depended on the kindness of strangers. That's how he had met his wife in the first place. It all started with a small gesture in a small hospital room.

Roy loathed hospitals. He hated the stiffness, overly sterile aspect of it all; the sound of heels on linoleum floor; the steady beeping of machines and constant bombardment of questions with downcast eyes. Most importantly he loathed strangers asking him if he was okay. No, in fact, Roy was never okay.

Why is it I always end up here with beautiful women?

"Can I eat yet?" MacKenzie lay in her hospital bed curled up facing Roy, who sat across from her.

"That's not up to me," Roy smiled faintly.

MacKenzie wasn't impressed. She frowned as Roy kissed her hand.

"So you don't remember anything?"

MacKenzie shook her head. "The last thing I remember is getting ticked off because we didn't stop for dinner yet."

"Of course you were." Roy ran his fingers down her arm.

"I don't like not being able to remember things," MacKenzie said softly.

Me either.

"We hit black ice. Went into the other lane and stopped when the car hit a mailbox. It knocked you out. You came to at some point when I went to get help and...you fixed my wheelchair with a concussion."

MacKenzie smiled. "I guess I was coherent enough at the time to think of you right away."

"I told you not to fall asleep," Roy's voice cracked. "I think you did. The man at the end of the street didn't speak English but was kind enough to drive us to the hospital when he...saw the blood." Roy squeezed MacKenzie's hand again. "You scared me for a bit, Kenz."

"Were you high?"

"What?"

"Were you high? Is that why you totaled the car?"

"I wasn't high that's the problem."

"How are we gonna get home? How are we gonna get to Oklahoma?"

"A police report was filed. I'm sure the car was towed to a garage. Right now we have to focus on getting your brain normal. Or, well, better. Or at least well enough to know who the president is."

"Don't look at me so sad like that. It's not like I died."

"You could have." The tone in Roy's voice was sharper than he would have wanted it to be. He swallowed heavily. "I'm sorry."

MacKenzie frowned, bringing her knees up to her chest. "You don't look so good yourself."

"Mrs. Walker?"

A tall, thin Eastern European man entered the room.

Mrs. Walker. Roy didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing MacKenzie be referred to with his surname. They were, in fact, married. MacKenzie was, in fact, Roy Walker's wife.

"Your scans came back. There looks to be no bleeding on the brain. We'd like to keep you overnight for observations, considering you did suffer some memory loss due to the concussion."

"I won't go anywhere," Roy told MacKenzie after the doctor left. "I've got you."

"Aren't you tired?"

"No," Roy said softly. "You know you can sleep, they're just gonna wake you up every now and then."

"I'm a registered nurse, Roy. I know how this shit works."

"Of course," Roy nodded.

"Why the fuck aren't you in a bed?"

"Because I'm the one who checked you in and I wasn't unconscious." Roy's fractured nose still ached but it wasn't as bad as the time William punched him in the face.

"You can't sit there all night," MacKenzie said, inching over.

Roy slowly climbed into MacKenzie's bed next to her and she rested her head in the nape of his neck. "I thought you knew all about this stuff since you're a registered nurse?"

He couldn't see her in the dark, but he knew his beautiful girl was rolling her beautiful eyes.