Slowly, painfully, her eyes opened.
A thin sound escaped her, not quite a breath and not quite a word. Her lashes fluttered as unfocused light flooded in, and for a moment everything blurred. Shapes and shadows drifted together, colour bleeding into colour.
Then a voice came through the haze, soft and familiar, frayed at the edges.
"Val?"
Her gaze drifted toward the sound.
Elliot.
He sat in the chair beside her bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands trembling where they were clasped together. His eyes were wide, rimmed red and shining, as if he had not blinked in hours.
He had not. Not really.
Another figure stood behind him. Noah rested one hand against the back wall, quiet and watchful, but it was Elliot she saw first. Elliot her mind reached for.
She tried to speak. Her throat burned.
"Hey," she croaked, little more than a scrape of sound.
Elliot let out a breath that cracked down the middle. "You're awake." His voice came as a whisper, like he was afraid a louder sound might break the fragile miracle unfolding in front of him.
She swallowed and winced. "What… happened?"
"You were in an accident," Noah said gently. "Early this morning. A truck swerved to avoid a cyclist. You were hit."
Her brow creased as the memory flickered. The screech of brakes, the cold pavement rushing up to meet her.
"Oh," she whispered.
Elliot's hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach for her but did not know if she would want him to. "You didn't come to the door," he said quietly. "You left me a note for breakfast. I thought something was wrong. I didn't know what to do."
She blinked at him, something painful and tender unfurling in her chest. "I'm sorry…"
His breath hitched. "Don't be sorry. You're…" His voice broke completely, and he dragged a shaking hand over his face. "You're here."
Val's eyes softened. She had never seen him like this, open and terrified and completely without his usual armour.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Noah asked, keeping his voice steady. "Do you need water?"
Val kept her gaze on Elliot. "I'm okay," she whispered, though her ribs throbbed with every breath. "Just tired."
Elliot's eyes filled again, slowly and without mercy. A single tear slipped down his cheek. He flinched as though he had not expected it.
"Sorry," he whispered, wiping it away as quickly as it had fallen. "I don't know why I'm crying."
Val's lips twitched in the smallest smile. "Probably because this sucks."
A soft, broken laugh escaped him. "That is one way to describe it."
The monitor beeped steadily beside her, the only sound filling the fragile space between them. Noah shifted, giving them more room without stepping away entirely.
Val looked down at her bandaged hands and the IV taped to her skin. Embarrassment caught in her throat. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Elliot shook his head in a quick, desperate motion. "You didn't. I mean, you did, but only because…" He stopped to breathe. "Because you matter."
Her breath stilled.
He looked instantly panicked by his own honesty. "I mean, you're my friend. You matter because friends do, that's all I meant, I just…"
"It's okay," she murmured, voice soft and warm. "I know what you meant."
His shoulders dropped, a quiet release. He looked exhausted, more than exhausted, but he did not look away from her, not even for a heartbeat.
Noah checked his watch, then cleared his throat. "I'm going to get some air and find something for you both to eat." His tone gently offered them space. "Call me if you need anything."
Elliot stayed exactly where he was.
When the door closed, the quiet deepened, tender and aching.
Val studied him. The dark circles under his eyes, the way his fingers curled as if trying to hold himself together, the rigid way he sat as though afraid a single wrong movement might disturb her.
"You stayed," she said softly.
"I wasn't leaving you," he replied without hesitation.
Her chest tightened. "You didn't have to."
"I know." His voice gentled. "I wanted to."
Tears pricked her eyes, born of pain and exhaustion and something she still didn't dare name.
"Elliot… about last night…"
His body stilled.
Before she could continue, the door opened again.
A nurse stepped inside with a clipboard in hand. "Good evening, Val. It's good to see you awake. I just need to take your vitals."
Elliot tensed, straightening in his chair with his hands pulled tightly into his lap. He looked like someone who had been ripped away from something delicate.
Val winced as she tried to move.
The nurse moved around the bed, adjusting the IV, checking the monitors, shining a small light near Val's eyes.
"Pain level?"
"Quite a lot," Val admitted.
"We'll fix that once the doctor checks you over."
When the nurse left, the room returned to its stillness.
Elliot's breathing was shallow. Val's eyes were heavy. They shared the same bone-deep exhaustion and neither knew how to speak around it.
"You didn't sleep last night either, did you?" she whispered.
He shook his head.
"Are you okay?"
"No." His answer was quiet, bare and unfiltered. "I thought something terrible had happened, and I didn't know how to make the feeling stop."
Her heart cracked open. "Elliot…"
He looked at her as though she might vanish if he blinked. "Please don't do that again."
She swallowed. "I didn't mean to."
"I know."
Silence settled again, fragile rather than cold.
She whispered, "Will you stay a little longer?"
He nodded at once. "I'm not going anywhere."
Her eyes drifted closed, sleep pulling her in, her breath easing into a more even rhythm.
Elliot stayed right where he was, exhausted and trembling, watching over her like she was the single point of gravity anchoring him to the world.
Because in some indescribable way, she was.
A soft knock broke the steady rhythm of the monitor. Noah stepped inside with a small paper bag. "Got what I could find." He set out protein bars, two bottles of juice and a small tub of cut fruit. He looked at Elliot carefully. "You need to eat something."
Elliot did not answer at first. His gaze was fixed on Val. After a moment he nodded, a quiet concession. Noah unwrapped a bar and placed it in his hand as gently as offering something breakable. Elliot ate in slow, absent bites, drank a few sips of juice, then immediately returned his attention to Val.
A few minutes later the door opened again. A doctor stepped inside with a clipboard, calm and composed.
"Good evening," she said, checking the monitors before turning to Val. "Let's see how she's doing."
Val stirred, her face tightening in a faint wince. Her eyes fluttered open again, clearer now.
"Hi, Val," the doctor said. "I'm Dr. Ames. Do you know where you are?"
Val swallowed. "Hospital."
"That's right." Dr. Ames nodded. "You were in an accident early this morning. You have a few bruised ribs, some cuts and a mild concussion. No internal bleeding and nothing requiring surgery. You were very lucky."
Val breathed out, shaky but relieved. "Guess I had a guardian angel watching." Her voice wavered. "My dad was always looking out for me."
The doctor gave a soft smile. "He did well. You'll need to stay for a few days, but you're expected to make a full recovery. I'll give you something for the pain."
As the doctor prepared the syringe, the room grew quieter again.
Val turned her head slightly and searched for Elliot. Something fragile and unbearably tender flickered in her expression. She lifted her hand a few centimetres off the blanket, the gesture small and trembling.
Elliot froze.
Then he reached out, slow and careful, and took her hand. His fingers trembled as they curled around hers, but once they touched and he felt her warmth, he did not let go.
Neither of them spoke.
They did not need to.
The doctor left quietly. The monitor beeped in its steady rhythm. Noah watched from a short distance, steady as a lighthouse beam.
Val's eyes drifted closed again, her hand still inside Elliot's.
Elliot stayed there until her breath deepened and settled. His own eyes grew heavy. His head dipped, and he drifted off beside her bed, still holding her hand like it was the last thread keeping him grounded.
Noah watched them, his expression softening into something almost reverent. Two people who did not yet understand what they meant to each other, clinging all the same.
He closed his laptop, leaned back in his chair and stayed awake as long as he could.
Eventually, even he succumbed to the exhaustion of the day.