"You sure you're okay?"

Quinn rolled her eyes at her sister's inquiry. It was the sixth time within fifteen minutes that Paloma asked the very same question and each time the girl's response stayed the same.

"Paloma," she groaned, "I'm fine. You don't have to keep asking."

After spending a few days in the intensive care unit, the teenager was finally transferred to a less critical, more settling area of the hospital. One in which—she hoped—didn't have such a deep layer of death lingering in the air.

But still, although Quinn was no longer in an urgent condition, Paloma maintained her alert state as if she was anticipating for everything to suddenly go wrong.

The brunette crossed her arms over her chest, obviously unconvinced of her little sister's contention. Even so, she resisted the urge to offer a counter and alternatively looked on at the nurse who carefully adjusted the navy blue sling that steadied Quinn's left shoulder, effectively keeping it in place.

She then handed Quinn yet another cold compress, one that she readily accepted. Quinn settled it at her sides, near her breastbone. She exhaled a sigh of relief once she felt the compress soothe her aching ribcage.

The girl still couldn't surmise how an injury so painful was required to heal through the use of painkillers and ice packs alone. But then again, if the medicine she was warranted the last few days continued to keep her feeling warm and fuzzy, she wouldn't mind the medication and bed rest.

All in all, both Sullivans knew that Quinn was lucky. Only having to deal with a tender ribcage and the occasional sharp pain in her shoulder that was to be expected following a severe dislocation. Either way, she lucked out. At least as far as physical ailments go.

She was thankful that her legs didn't give her any trouble. No pain and very minimal discomfort. They lied propped up on two oversized pillows, efficiently keeping the blood flow steady in each of the broken limbs.

The bright pink casts held Paloma's signature ever since the brunette took a black sharpie to the hardened material, insisting that she should be the first to sign. She then followed the action up by reminding Quinn of the day she too broke her leg when she was about the redhead's age, preventing her from returning to her high school track team for much longer than she anticipated.

The time she couldn't spend at the track she enjoyed with a four-year-old Quinn. They spent the next few weeks eating their weight in popcorn and watching every Disney movie known to man.

Now that Quinn found herself in a (not so) similar predicament, Paloma deemed the broken bones a rite of passage that truly proved that they were sisters.

Following the nurse's departure, the writer returned to the teenager's side, reclaiming the spot she inhibited for the entirety of Quinn's stay.

In spite of the increasingly over-affectionate nature that was about the woman, Quinn smiled anyhow, not objecting to Paloma's gentle touch as she gingerly stroked her red hair.

"Well, if you're sure that you're okay—"

"I am," Quinn promised.

"—then do you think you'd be up for some visitors?"

The girl drew in her eyebrows as she pondered the query. Once Paloma saw the wheels turning in her head she presented a proposal, "Let's do this; they come in to see you, just for a little bit, and if it becomes too much then we'll stop."

Quinn merely nodded, relieved that Paloma could fill in the blank spaces in her head. The spaces that seemed to increase by the minute.

Paloma stroked the girl's hair one final time before finally scurrying off. After a few short moments, she returned. And even though the absence of her glasses made it difficult to see, even Quinn recognized the familiar face her sister brought back along with her.

Ava's pristine teeth readily presented themselves as the woman smiled. It was no ordinary smile but the type of expression that only made an appearance once in a lifetime. It was sincere because not only did it illuminate the comfort and happiness the woman felt but also the grief, fear, and painful uncertainty the incident created as well.

The silver necklace she gave Quinn just a few months prior for the girl's sixteenth birthday remained hooked around her neck and the sight alone made Ava's smile broaden. Quinn simpered once Ava gently wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a delicate hug, being careful not to injure the teenager any further.

"I hoped you enjoyed scaring the shit outta me and your sister," Ava snarked with the playful roll of her eyes. Despite the writer's lighthearted comment, Quinn could hear the quiver in Ava's voice, proving her terror.

"I did," came Quinn's simple response. She matched the writer's elated expression as the woman presented her with a purple gift bag.

"What's this?" Quinn queried.

Ava laughed, "Why don't you open it and see?"

Quinn smirked at the overabundance of candy that awaited at the bottom of the bag. She looked back up at the woman who greeted her with a smile.

"I figured by now you'd be sick of hospital food, thought I'd spice things up for you a bit," Ava surmised. "Don't eat it all in one sitting." She let out a soft chuckle and gently squeezed the girl's good shoulder.

It wasn't until Ava joined Paloma on the opposite side of the room that Quinn noticed Ross standing at the foot of her bed with Oliver by his side. The man immediately made an advance towards her, leaving his hands out of the equation and planting a chaste kiss to Quinn's temple instead.

"Paloma told us what happened, you okay?" Quinn instantly picked up on the great concern his gentle eyes held as if the franticness that was apparent in his speech didn't prove his worries in itself.

"I'm good," Quinn assured. "Really."

Ross sighed in response, her wounds proving her wrong. Instead of contradicting her, he presented the girl with a modest bouquet of yellow roses. She smiled and accepted the well-scented gift.

"Something to brighten up the room, it was Maggie's idea. She's out parking the car by the way," he explained.

It wasn't until Quinn felt small arms wrap around her midsection that she realized Oliver had climbed onto the bed next to her, pulling her into an abrupt hug and giving her a tight squeeze. The teenager clamped her eyes shut and swallowed the whimper that threatened to slip past her lips, the pressure on her ribs instantly becoming too much.

Ross quickly pulled his son down from the bed, scolding the confused boy for his actions. Meanwhile, Quinn doubled over, clutched her ribs, and took in a ragged breath in attempts to prevent the already excruciating pain from intensifying.

Although she cursed under her breath, the profanity didn't go unheard by Paloma who worked to chase away the pain by rubbing soothing circles on Quinn's back.

"Sorry," was the eight-year-old's timid apology.

The redhead wore a faint smile. "It's okay," she mustered out.

Oliver rocked back and forth on his heels, his gaze settled on the floor. "We got you something else too." Once Quinn pried her eyes open she spotted the paperback the boy held a few inches from her face.

"It's a mystery story by Agatha Christie," Ross elaborated. "The guy at the bookstore said she's one of the most famous writers of all time. Figured you'd enjoy it."

Quinn accepted the book. She blinked rapidly and trapped her bottom lip between her teeth her as she silently studied it closely. When the smile that typically came to fruition after holding a thrilling new novel in her hands failed to present itself, Oliver frowned.

"You don't like it?" he asked.

Quinn met his gaze and concealed her frown with a courtesy smile to fend off the disappointment in the strawberry-blonde's eyes.

"No, yeah," she stammered. "I love it. Thanks."

It went without saying that everyone was thankful when Paloma intervened, preventing an awkward silence from lingering in the air. "Okay, well, let's not focus on that right now." She gently took the book from the girl's hands. "I'll put this with the rest of your stuff."

Paloma grinned while she observed her younger sister. The vibrant color had finally returned to the girl's face, the rosy tint in her cheeks became even more apparent as she and Oliver engaged in a playful sword fight, Twizzlers, of course, being their weapon of choice.

Quinn's eyes danced in amusement and the brunette couldn't help but match her expression. She welcomed the bit of relief that suddenly washed over her because, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she truly felt like she could breathe.

"So, she seems to be doing pretty well."

It wasn't until Ava occupied the seat next to her that Paloma tore her eyes from the children. "...Yeah."

"And that's good."

"Of course."

Ava frowned. "Then...why do I get the feeling that something's up?"

Paloma merely pressed her lips together and sighed. The other writer's frown deepened when Paloma refused to look at her.

"What is it?" she pressed again.

The brunette shook her head. "Nothing, it's just, sure she seems fine now and don't get me wrong, I'm grateful because up until a couple days ago, I thought I was gonna be planning a funeral but I'm not and you're right, that is good but..." She sucked in a breath, taking a break from her rambling. "The broken ribs, the legs, the shoulder—everything, eventually it'll all heal but her brain? I mean..." She bit her lip. "I don't know."

Ava slowly nodded in understanding. As much as she hated to admit it, they were both well aware that the road ahead would be one that held many uncertainties.

"Well," the mahogany-haired woman began, "no one's saying it'll be easy but...she's strong. I mean, look at her, she more than pulled through. She's smiling and laughing...she's here. She'll be okay, I don't doubt that. Besides, she has you so that counts for something. And of course, she has me." She smirked. "So yeah, she'll definitely be okay."

Paloma let out a small chuckle before finally allowing her pensive expression to return. Ava matched her appearance once the brunette looked at her sincerely. Ava returned the genuine look because although they had spent hours on end in each other's presence for the last few days, it truly felt as though their time apart had lasted an eternity.

As if Ava sensed the urgent question that Paloma longed to voice ever since their relationship perished, she broke through the comfortable quiet, "And you have me too."

Paloma's lips curved into a goofy smile, one that she couldn't shut down if she tried. In fear of saying something stupid, she gave the woman's knee a quick squeeze and surveyed the room. When she realized her sister was alone, she approached the bed.

Quinn chewed soundlessly on a Snickers bar, her eyes flickered to Paloma's when the woman cleared her throat, making her presence known.

"Still doin' okay?"

Quinn simply nodded, this time leaving the eye roll out of the equation.

"You know," Paloma started, "someone else came to see you too."

At this, Quinn stopped chewing. "Who?"

The brunette lifted an eyebrow. "I think you know who." She studied the girl in attempts to gauge her reaction but Quinn simply wrapped up her candy bar and settled her gaze on her lap.

Quinn couldn't fathom why the other teenager would want anything to do with her.

"He did?"

"Yep, he's still here now, actually. The kid's been here for the last few days, just sitting, waiting...for you."

"Why didn't he come in with everyone else?"

Paloma shrugged. "My guess is he doesn't know if he's welcomed or not."

Quinn exhaled and returned her gaze to her lap. She only looked up again when Paloma rested her palm over hers.

"What do you want me to tell him?"

The younger Sullivan bit her lip and fought the urge to slouch, her injuries preventing her from doing so. "Well, I don't exactly want him to see me like this but if he's willing to talk to me then..."

Paloma gave her hand a gentle squeeze before leaving to retrieve the boy in question. Quinn reached for the hand-held mirror that sat on a nearby table. Although the item remained in her vicinity for the last few days, she never could gather the courage to pick it up—until now.

She figured now was as good a time as any. Once her reflection stared back at her, she fought the urge to look away. She'd hoped she hadn't looked as bad as she felt but now she had her answer—she did.

Various cuts and scrapes covered her face, a couple of which extended over her pink lips. She licked the wounds and raised her eyebrows, surprised she didn't taste blood.

Her fingers traced the thin bandage that remained from the top left of her forehead and ended at the corner of her nose. This laceration—she surmised—would probably make a much more lasting effect than all the rest.

Quinn's fingers traveled upwards to her hair where a cloth-like fabric covered a small part of her head. She grimaced once her curious digits came in contact with the shaved portion of the area and she was instantly thankful that it was shielded from her eyes and all others for that matter. She couldn't imagine how repulsive her once gorgeous hair would look now that she was borderline mutilated.

It didn't take long for Paloma to return, this time with more company. Despite her blurred vision, Quinn could make out someone—or something—walking behind Paloma. It was big and light-brown in color. Once the figure grew closer even Quinn could tell that it was a stuffed animal.

Behind it was dark curls that swayed from side to side as the two drew nearer, curls that could only come from one person.

Once Charlie stepped forward, Quinn could see him in his entirety, his features instantly becoming apparent. She could see the bags beneath his eyes that indicated lack of sleep. His eyes, that were casted down, flickered across the room, proving his growing anxiety.

But what Quinn found to be the most unsettling was a feature that was abundantly apparent. Something she had never seen before in the boy's kind, green eyes—guilt. But she simply couldn't understand why the terrible feeling would ever creep its way into Charlie's heart.

When Ava spotted Charlie, she glanced back towards Quinn and instantly sensed the shift in the atmosphere. Wanting to grant the two time alone she offered a subtle distraction, "Well, I'm starving, anyone wanna join me down at the food court?"

As if Ross sensed the same thing, he agreed, "Sounds good. Come on, Ollie." Quinn looked up once the man turned to face her. "Want anything?"

"I'm good, thanks."

The man kissed Quinn on the top of the head. "We'll be back."

Once the room cleared out, Charlie inched closer. He spoke in a voice so small that had she not watched the eight-year-old leave herself she would've mistaken the voice for Oliver.

"Hey."

"...Hey," came Quinn's subtle response.

"I, um, got you something." Charlie shifted the oversized bear in his arms. "It's twice as big as you are but I thought  you'd like it, just in case you get scared here at night."

Quinn smiled. Charlie always had a way of considering even the slightest of details when it came to her. He always managed to convince her that whatever it was she needed, no matter how childish it seemed, wasn't silly. Even if it really was.

"Thanks."

He placed the stuffed animal in a nearby chair then pulled up one for himself and sat down in it, being careful not to sit too close to the girl's bedside.

For a moment, he just fidgeted with his hands and Quinn did the same.

"Are you alright?" was his sudden question. He shook his head in hopes to gather his words. "Well, I know you're not alright alright but...are you okay?"

Quinn relaxed a bit because for whatever reason he was nervous too. "Yeah, well, I've definitely seen better days but I'll be okay. I won't be able to walk for a while since I broke both legs and sometimes my ribs hurt like an absolute bitch but they hooked me up with some pretty good drugs so yeah, I'd say I'm doing pretty good."

She refrained from forcing a chuckle, knowing that the laugh would only hurt her in the end. Charlie furrowed his dark eyebrows once her smile diminished.

"But apparently, I like, hurt my brain or something. Well, I mean, it doesn't physically hurt or anything but..." she huffed. "I don't know. I found out there's a lot I can't do now."

"What do you mean?"

Quinn lowered her gaze, focusing on her palms as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

"Well, they did some mental exercises with me based on the areas that my brain was injured," she explained. "And for starters, it takes me forever to make a decision about almost anything really. It's not all the time but it comes and goes. Just yesterday, the nurse asked if I wanted the lights on or off and it literally took me so long to decide that she just left them on and said she'd be back later to turn them off if I changed my mind." She lowered voice substantially, "It's so humiliating. And..." Quinn twiddled her thumbs. "I can't read."

Charlie's lips parted at this, his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, that was my reaction too." Quinn nodded. "I didn't even think that could happen, you know? It's like, how the hell do you forget how to read?"

She lifted her recently acquired mystery novel from her bedside table. "So, yeah I guess I won't be needing this for a while, which sucks since its pretty uneventful around here. Apparently, my phone, along with my glasses, was smashed to pieces in the wreck so..." she raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, it's boring, to say the least."

She held her sides and laughed ever so slightly, ensuring that her ribcage wouldn't punish her for the action.

"There's a bunch of other stuff the doctor said I'd likely have trouble with too but it varies from person to person and I probably won't really realize my other limitations until after I go home."

Silence lingered in the air and Quinn immediately picked up on the reluctance as well as the grief and guilt that remained present in Charlie's gaze. Even so, she still couldn't summon a reason for the pained look in the other teenager's eyes. Instead of asking directly, she went for a more playful approach,

"You look like crap, you know that? I mean, I do too, don't get me wrong. As a matter of fact, I'm thankful I can't see myself right now but I have an excuse. What's yours?"

It wasn't until the redhead looked up at Charlie that she saw the pink tint that was spread over his cheeks and the tip of his nose. The tears that began to stream down his face immediately made her heart twinge incredibly painfully as it reminded her of the day she destroyed their relationship.

"I'm sorry," was his broken response.

Quinn didn't know why the boy was crying but the sight alone nearly made her cry too. "Why?"

"Why?" he scoffed. "Because I never should've turned you away that night. I was being such an idiot. I was angry and just terrible, I mean, the things I said to you—" He narrowed his eyes. "I didn't think something like this would happen, I wasn't thinking at all. I was the one being selfish. I didn't think about what'd happen to you or Paloma or anyone." He only ceased his rambling when he no longer had enough air in his lungs to speak. "...I'm sorry."

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down," Quinn pleaded. "What are you talking about?"

Charlie tensed his jaw. "The other night, the night it happened, when you got in the wreck, it was after you came to see me."

Quinn's face took on a reddened tint. "...I went to see you?"

Charlie nodded. "You don't remember?"

Quinn furrowed her brows, hoping to bring the event to fruition but like many memories lately, she simply couldn't recall.

"No, I...I don't remember much of anything really. The last thing I remember is Paloma and I looking for Siberia." She narrowed her eyes. "But Paloma said that was almost two weeks ago."

The boy used his teeth to tear into his bottom lip. "You came to my house and tried to explain things but...I wouldn't listen."

"Oh," Quinn whispered. "Well, it's okay. You didn't know and either way, it wasn't your fault. Last I checked, I was the one who was driving."

Charlie sniffled but allowed his pink cheeks to remain stained with his tears. "Your sister told me, explained what happened. The truth about why you, you know, broke up with me."

Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. "She did?"

"Don't be mad but...yeah."

Quinn sighed, mostly in relief that the truth had finally come to fruition. "It was stupid. I was the idiot, okay? I'm the one who caused all this mess."

Charlie shook his head defiantly. "No, I shouldn't have given up that easily. Or at the very least I should've listened to what you had to say. I know you, and the things you said, I should've known it was a lie because you're not mean or hateful or selfish or a bitch," he whispered. "But I just said that because...I needed a reason. And now—" He took in a shallow breath as he looked her over once more. "You're like this and I'm so sorry."

Quinn instantly understood the source of his guilt but she also knew that only someone as sweet as Charlie would find a way to blame themselves.

"Stop, okay? Are we really gonna play the blame game? I don't know much but I do know that I was the one behind the wheel, not you. Apparently, the other driver doesn't remember much of anything either so, we may never know for sure whose fault it was but either way I know that it's not yours," she promised. "So stop. The only thing that could make this situation any worse is if I knew you blamed yourself."

Charlie locked his jaw and dried his tears. To the girl's relief, he failed to offer a counter. She smiled and patted the spot next to her, inviting him onto the bed.

Quinn frowned when he shook his head. "I don't wanna hurt you," he divulged.

She scoffed, "You're not gonna hurt me...or at least not that badly." She grinned. "There's plenty of room up here for both of us. Just don't, you know, squeeze me or anything because then you might actually kill me."

"Not funny," he retorted sternly.

"Calm down, I'm joking. I mean, don't you think if I was gonna die I would've done that days ago?"

Charlie glared at her dark sense of humor and Quinn couldn't stop herself from giggling. Shortly after, a wince followed the laugh. "Come on, if you don't get up here then I'm gonna come to you and we both know how pathetic that'll be," she threatened.

Eventually, the other teenager relented and carefully climbed onto the bed, being sure not to touch the girl. Nevertheless, Quinn gently rested her head on his chest, causing Charlie to instinctively revert back to his old ways.

He gingerly wrapped his arms around her and welcomed her sweet scent. Never before had the gesture held such a high level of purity, never had it felt so natural.