I woke up, disoriented. Chaos reigned around me. People were running in all directions, smoke filled the air, and the stench was overwhelming—burnt, bitter. I struggled to my knees, only to immediately vomit violently. God, what was that foul smell?

In the distance, an alarm wailed. I clutched my aching head.

What the hell had happened?

"Ash?"

Oh, someone was calling my name. I turned my head, trying to see who it was, trying to make sense of everything. Or anything really. However,  the world spun around me, turning my stomach anew.

"Damn it, Ash!" Someone grabbed my elbow, the one with the injured shoulder, but stopped when I groaned in pain, kneeling beside me.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Jason's face appeared at my uninjured shoulder, his features and clothes smudged with dirt and soot. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me up. I groaned again. "Oh shit, Ash, are you hurt?"

Jason inspected me more closely, carefully picking glass shards from my hair. I looked at him, dazed. "What the hell happened?"

My voice was squeaky again, but for once, it felt somewhat appropriate. In the distance, someone screamed. I flinched, startled by the agony in the voice.

"I... Luke..." Jason looked around desperately. Once he was sure I could stand on my own, he stepped back, bracing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

"Jason?"

He looked up at me, his eyes wide, suddenly appearing like a frightened child. Then it all burst out of him. "I had no idea what he was going to do, honestly. Oh God, Luke. I don't understand... I mean, he was... why?" He looked down at himself, as if searching his clothes for answers. Almost catatonically, he fished something out of his shirt... God, was that a piece of flesh?

"Why would someone blow themselves up?"

My breath caught in my throat. "Someone blew themselves up?"

Jason nodded mechanically. "Luke." His lips were unnaturally pale. The usually sun-kissed, clever, and charming Jason looked like a wreck, as if he was about to collapse. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to look at me.

"You knew the attacker?"

Jason nodded again. Now, he wasn't just pale, he was turning green. He looked like he might cry at any moment. Or throw up. Maybe both. 

"Oh, Jason!" I took a step toward him, wanting to support him, but he looked at me like a frightened deer, so I hesitated and let go of his shoulder. Then, he turned away and vomited as noisily into the bushes as I had earlier. The roses were certainly getting their share of fertilizer today.

Groaning, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked up at me apologetically. "Ugh. Sorry." He took a deep breath. "Okay. Good. I'm good."

He glanced past me toward the house's entrance, then wrapped his arm around my waist again, giving me a questioning look.

"Can you walk, or do you need help?"

Pride told me to shake him off and walk on my own, but I cautiously took a few steps. Walking was possible, though I felt pretty battered. It would be quicker to list the uninjured parts of my body than to count the injuries at this point. Nothing seemed broken.

That was about the only good news. The rest of me was a mess. My entire body was covered in cuts, some large, some small; I had fallen on my dislocated shoulder; and my head was pounding as if I had downed three bottles of tequila by myself and then used my skull as a battering ram. And as if that wasn't enough, I stepped on a piece of glass lying on the ground.

"Ah, fuck."

Jason followed my gaze to my bare feet, then swiftly scooped me up. Despite his sudden action, he was surprisingly gentle, careful to minimize any jolts. I studied him more closely.

I was likely in shock and suffering from blood loss, but what struck me most at that moment was just how handsome Jason really was. A bit boyish, but somehow... radiant. Content and at peace with himself. I clung to his neck as he carried me into the house. There was... ugh, something stuck to his collar at the back of his neck. Something way to fleshy I didn't want to think about further, so I quickly brushed the remnants away, trying to make it seem like a caress to distract him from the fact that he might be wearing parts of his friend as makeup. My fingers slid through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. His very soft hair, and his very strong neck. I felt his skin pebble under my caress. Jason had turned his head, smiling at me. I felt a warmth spread through me. I smiled back.

A throat cleared, startling us, and we both turned our heads. Eric, Bill, and Sookie stood before us. Sookie was in Bill's arms, while Eric stood with his arms crossed, observing us with a raised eyebrow. Sookie's mouth was smeared with blood, and Eric's clothes were as dirty and ruined as Jason's.

Sookie disentangled herself from Bill and stepped toward us.

"Damn it, Jason, you're supposed to make sure Ash is okay, not scoop her up like...," she trailed off. Her gaze swept over me, and she frowned. "Sweetheart, you need a hospital."

I shook my head vigorously. Bad idea. My vision blurred, and my stomach turned again. I squirmed in Jason's arms, and he got the message, carefully setting me back on my feet, making sure I put weight on my uninjured foot first.

He held me steady as I vomited again. When I straightened up, I found Sookie looking at me with a "told you so" expression.

"Jason, take her to the hospital!" she ordered her brother, then took Bill's hand to leave. She turned away.

"I—"

She whirled back around at my protest. In one stride, she was in front of me, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Damn it, Ash, don't be so incredibly stubborn!" Sookie almost shouted at me. "You. Are. Hurt. You probably have a concussion and God knows how many other cuts that need stitching. Your shoulder is injured, and you're refusing help. I've never known anyone who attracts chaos and injury like you do."

She flailed her arms in the air, looking like she wanted to jab her finger into my chest and shove me, but she wasn't sure if I could withstand it. Honestly, I wasn't sure either. My vision blurred again, but I straightened up stubbornly, facing her head-on.

And I met her attack with a defense.

"Oh yeah? Take yourself into account, did ya?"

I raised my functioning arm as best as I could to poke her in the shoulder. Even that small gesture made the ground sway beneath me again. Something must have really hit me over the head with that explosion, my thoughts still a jumbled mess. Yes, Sookie was probably right, I needed a hospital, but that wasn't the point.

"You're such a hypocrite!" I hissed in her face, eyes squinted shut. "You've got blood dripping from your mouth right this second, you regularly put yourself in unnecessary danger for who knows what stupid reasons, and you're telling me I'm... I'm..."

I was out of breath, and the spinning room wasn't helping. To my surprise, Sookie stayed quiet while Bill stood beside her, his face as gloomy as a rainy day. I looked between the two of them, confused, then at Jason, who looked as bewildered as I felt, and finally at Eric, who was grinning with satisfaction.

Uh-oh.

I sighed.

"What did you do?" I asked, directing my question at Eric. His grin widened.

"Sookie was kind enough to help me with my wounds," Eric began, almost in a singsong voice, glancing challengingly at Bill, who growled while Sookie ground her teeth so hard they might shatter. Her muttered curses were almost lost in the background, "You fucking sick—"

Eric continued as if he were talking about a trip to the beach while Sookie cursed him out. "Truly, her oral skills are superb..."

She swung at him then, landing a punch to his jaw. It seemed to hurt her more than him, but I was definitely impressed—and so was Jason. We spoke in unison.

"Sookie!"

But while Jason sounded concerned, I was more impressed. She spun around to us again, her hair falling wildly across her face.

"Not another word from either of you. Jason, hospital. Ash—no arguments."

And with that, she grabbed Bill's hand again and practically marched toward the front door, leaving the scene of carnage around us. For a moment, everything was silent.

"All righty then," Jason muttered, snapping me out of my thoughts. Eric's words still echoed in my mind, and I tried not to imagine too vividly what I might have missed, so my expression must have been pretty frozen.

Jason wrapped his arm around my shoulder again, but this time, I looked at him in confusion.

"Uh, what are you doing there buddy?"

Jason frowned at me.

"I'm taking you to the hospital?"

I snorted. "Like hell you are. Nobody got the damn money for that. I—"

I swayed again before I could finish the sentence with "I don't need a hospital." Thankfully someone caught me, before I could kiss the floor with my face.

"Party pooper," I muttered, trying to blink away the dizziness. All I could see were dark shapes and "—those damn blue eyes."

Eric, who had caught me, looked at Jason.

"Did you maybe knock her into a few doorframes on the way into the house with your lovey-dovey carrying of her?"

Jason blushed furiously.

Eric sighed. "Ah well, let's make this easy. I'm taking you to Fangtasia."

That got my attention, even in my dizzy state. Fangtasia? "Eric, we're not going to..."

He cut me off with a dismissive hand gesture. "No arguments, little lady. We'll drop by Fangtasia, grab some stuff, and then we'll head to the hospital."

I would have refused, but the room was spinning in and out of view, and all the vomit and blood didn't help either. And then darkness overtook me.

There was no time for last words. Darkness rushed in and I fainted.