(no subject)

[takecourage]

She's already takenn it by the time she knows she's fucked up. It isn't the first time that she's injectedd -- she tried a lost everything when she was a teenger didn't she? -- but this drug, dreamed into being, is stronger than she expects and she's taken too much, more than she took when she got fucked up with Rue, and, suddenly, it feels like the whole world is at the end of a long tunnel, and she's falling away.

Her phone is in her hand. She doesn't know how it got there. There's one number than she knows how to dial.

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[more_magic]

Her color's still not good, her grip a little weak as she clings to him, but she's breathing and responsive and that's what he focuses on. When she keeps herself small, mumbling out that apology even as it seems she can't--won't--look at him again just yet, Darlington has to swallow hard past the lump in his throat. "I know, Alex. I know." Tentatively, he runs a hand over her hair, not minding the tangles, the grease, everything that spoke to how she must have been the last few days. "It's okay."

Fumbling his phone out of his pocket, he dials 911, giving the operator his address, telling them to hurry, please. He stays on the floor, holding her, until he hears the front door open and the EMTs coming down the hall.

[takecourage]

She's dimly aware of what's happening around her, of the EMTs and the stretcher and, through it all, Darlington's soft, deep voice. At some point, after she's hooked up to drips and monitors, someone tells her to sleep, so she does. Deep and dead, for a what feels like a long time.

When she wakes up, her mouth is dry and her eyes feel gritty. The hospital gown she's wearing feels familiar in a really shitty way.

"Danny?"

[more_magic]

Darlington answers what questions he can when the EMTs ask, hanging back to let them check Alex over. One of them claps him on the shoulder, tells him he did the right thing using the Narcan when he did, and all he does is nod, still watching Alex as she's moved onto the stretcher. He'd have carried her all the way down to the ambulance if they'd let him, but he settles for holding her hand once she's inside and strapped in.

The ride only takes a few minutes; he doesn't let go of her until he has to once again, when she's wheeled away and he's urged into a waiting room by a nurse. "Once she's stabilized, we'll get you," she says, something kind but firm in her eyes that Darlington chooses to trust. He thanks her, folding himself into an uncomfortable chair and flipping distractedly through one magazine after another.

She's already asleep by the time he's directed to her room, and he pauses in the doorway, reminded of the sight of her just like this in Sandow's video. Even with the low quality, he'd noticed how thin she was, a fragility he'd mistaken for something more untamed. Her tattoos stand out all the sharper against the faded blue of her hospital gown and the white of the blanket covering her. He takes off his blazer and rolls it up, wedging it behind his head as he slouches in yet another uncomfortable chair at the side of her bed and closes his eyes. When he wakes, it's to the hoarse sound of his own name.

"I'm here," he says, straightening up as he yawns. Automatically, he moves to take her hand, managing at the last minute to transform the action into letting his fingers rest along the low railing of her hospital bed.

[takecourage]

She sees him and immediately her eyes sting, fat years overspilling the aching rims of her eyes.

"Oh shit," she mumbles, lifting one hand, bulky with the monitor clipped to her finger, to swipe away years. "Fuck."

[more_magic]

She starts crying again, and again just at the sight of him; this time, at least, Darlington manages not to follow close behind. "Hey, no," he says softly, reaching for a nearby box of tissues. "They want to keep you for a day or two, but...you're okay now."

It sounds too much like a wish, like some desperate hope, and that's a thought he does his best to ignore.

[takecourage]

"I fucked everything up," she says, curling up onto her side, as much as she can. "What we...I should have known I'd fuck it all up."

[more_magic]

It's not what he expected her to say, words that manage to surprise and cause a twist in his heart all at the same time. To tell her No would be as much of a lie as saying Yes, and for a moment he's unable to say anything at all. Absurdly, he thinks of the chaotic end to Darrowfest, of being on that flimsy beam of plywood over a chasm, Alex's dark eyes the only anchor he had to the safety that waited on the other side.

"We don't have to talk about this now," he says. "We should. We need to. Eventually. But we don't have to now."

[takecourage]

Alex bites back the urge to argue with him and nods, turning her face into the pillow.

"Will you...can you...just come and lie with me for a while?"

[more_magic]

In turning her face away, she looks somehow smaller, younger, lost and alone. Darlington knows the sharp edges that still lie between them, the things both of them had said and done and the way all the peace they'd found here had been demolished in one night. But when she curls up like that, her voice the same broken woodwind he'd first heard on Sandow's video, he knows there's only one thing he can do.

"Of course." He stops only long enough to take off his shoes, the linoleum tiles cold beneath his socked feet as he goes to the other side of the bed. Her IV and pulse monitor and everything else are tucked enough out of the way, but he's still careful as he gets into the narrow bed behind her, bending his long body to fit around hers.

I love you is on his lips, another automatic response from an earlier, easier time than this. He can't manage to give it voice quite yet.