"NO ESCAPE ACTS.”

As fair as the condition is,  Ellie-Marie is about ninety-nine percent sure that spilling her impressive past as a hospital Houdini violates HIPAA in more ways than one.  She's barely been here an entire day and has gotten thirty-one stitches,  clutched hard enough to crack ribs by both Dad and Abi,  and a thorough face scrubbing followed by a hair wash.  While she can't complain about the kindness exhibited by the nurses and doctors,  she's frankly already sick and tired of looking at these walls and being separated from her family.

Rules don't mean anything to her when they're keeping her from her people.  Maybe she should start wearing a sign?

“Will it be escaping if I stay in the building?”  Ellie-Marie asks innocently,  scraping the bottom of her vanilla pudding cup with her spoon.  “Because I'm not gonna go that far.”  

The look the nurse gives her is nothing short of baffled.  “I’m sorry?”

“I'm not gonna leave,”  Ellie repeats.  “But respectfully,  I can't stay in here.”

“It's vital for your recovery that you stay here.”

“It's vital for my mental stability that I see my fam-that I see my friends,”  she corrects.  Having this conversation is pointless,  she'll be leaving the room anyway,  but it's probably a good idea that at least one person is aware of this.  “I'm not that injured, anyway.”

The nurse- Nurse Wallen,  Ellie notes-  looks more surprised than she thought a nurse in New York would be,  looking down to her clipboard like she's double checking herself.

“Your chart says you were stabbed-”

“I've been stabbed before,”  she dismisses casually,  hardly realizing she's cut Nurse Wallen off until the surprised look she gets in response alerts her of such.  “Sorry!  Sorry,  I just,  I mean,  this isn't my first time at the stabby rodeo.  Five times, actually!  This isn't the worst.”

Nurse Wallen is still looking at her like she has two heads,  glancing from her chart back to Ellie like she's doing an impossible math problem.  “You're nineteen…”

“Uh-huh!  This is more common than you'd think.   Or, kind of.  It's my third time.  Sixth overall.”

The look that earns her in response is one that might be one of concern.  Ellie-Marie isn't too sure how to read it, not with everything else on her mind,  but she’s also aware that this isn’t a frequent problem for people with normal lives.

After what feels like an agonizing thousand beats of awkward silence Nurse Wallen nods,  backing away from the bed like she's processing what Ellie's said.  There's no pretending that there's a good response to this,  but that's part of the tactic despite how bad she feels about it.

“I'll go ask about wheelchair transportation,”  she finally says,  opening the door with one hand and stepping out.  “We'll see what we can do for you,  okay?”

“Thanks!”

Whether the smile she pairs with her upbeat gratitude makes everything worse or soothes the nurses’ clear anxiety with the topic isn’t as obvious as what Ellie-Marie would like,  but she'll take what she can get for the time being.  If this gets her a little more leeway (and a little less scolding) she'll gladly take it.

Truth be told,  she'll take anything that bears some resemblance to good news at this point.  She knows enough to know that Buffy still hasn't woken up yet and that none of them seem to have left the hospital since the early hours of yesterday, even though Dad,  Abi,  Rory and Sam have technically been cleared to go.  Dad's barely got a head wound from being knocked unconscious outside the theater,  Abi has one to match,  and Rory and Sam both have long cuts down their arms.

They're more unscathed than they were last year.  For that Ellie's grateful, but that's where her knowledge begins and ends with everyone who isn't her.

Her hips sports a seven inch stab wound,  a little over half an inch deep with damaged tissue.  There's a knot formed on the back of her head where she slammed against the concrete,  the skin along her ankle ripped back open due to overexertion and her wrist was sprained from where she landed in the chase, though those last two pains are child's play in comparison to everything else.

It could have been worse.  When thinking about Buffy,  Bella and Anika,  Ellie privately wishes it had been.  No amount of personal wounds would make up for what her best friends suffered but it could at least begin as some sort of absolution from the great sin of not losing her life for however many minutes,  if not forever.  What makes her special enough to live this long?  Of everyone who has ever wanted to kill her,  why have none ever succeeded?

The sound of her spoon scraping against nothingness alerts her back from her thoughts,  pursing her lips as she looks down at her lap. Her thoughts are once again louder than her surroundings and she hardly notices the door opening,  her peripheral only catching a glimpse of raven colored hair to serve as a warning.

“Sunshine,”  Tara says.  Her voice sounds light in a way Ellie-Marie hasn't heard in what feels like a century,  a call that begs Ellie's head to rise in an answer and greet her girl with a smile.  She feels bashful now,  viewed differently in a way she had come to not expect from Tara.

Apparently she was a little off about that.

“Hi.”

“Hi,”  Tara responds cheekily,  her grin embarrassingly telling.  “Sorry I took forever,  fuckers said I had to stay down for a few hours.”

“For good reason.  Didn't you get stabbed?”

“Pretty sure I said the same thing to you once.  Right after you snuck out of the hospital instead of just sneaking around.” 

This is delivered with enough of a pointed look that Ellie looks back down, absently poking the bottom of her pudding cup once more.  “I was making a point.”

“So am I,”  pulling a chair over to her bedside Tara takes a seat, resting one arm over the side of the rail far enough to graze Ellie's arm.  She doesn't even have to think before she's flipping her hand over and slotting her fingers with Tara's,  squeezing once out of reflex.  “Proving that they can't keep me down.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.  Can't be tamed or whatever the hell Miley Cyrus said.”  

The quip makes Ellie find yet another hopelessly giddy smile as she raises her gaze,  meeting Tara in a perfect arch.  “Which is why you're in here, huh?  Wild of you.”

“What can I say?  I'm a certified troublemaker,”  Tara shrugs.  “Bad influence.  Definitely gonna steal your lunch money and your heart,  like that chick from ‘The Babysitter’.”

“The one with the cult?”

“And the ritualistic sacrifices of children,  yeah.  Could also be ‘Hereditary’ if we wanted,  but there's not much heart stealing there.”

Ellie giggles at the remark,  shaking her head.  She’s learned can't move too sharply unless she wants a world of pain,  so this will have to do for now.  “I think you only fit with the heart stealers.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,”  she hums,  twirling one of the rings adorning Tara's fingers.  “You took mine pretty easily.  Dunno if you noticed,  though.”

It's a risky comment,  one Ellie-Marie wouldn't have made even a week ago in fear of utterly destroying a relationship beyond repair.  Now,  though,  she thinks that someone who's kissed her twice after they both nearly died for the umpteenth time might return the sentiment.  At least a little bit.

Fortunately for her Tara chuckles at the comment,  pulling their interlocked hands closer to the railing before settling her chin on them.   “You're not one to talk about obliviousness,  Sunshine.  I've been flirting for like, a literal year.”

Very,  very briefly Ellie considers retaliating with how long she subtly made her affection known.  It's a tempting tease that doesn't seem like it would go the way she'd like it to,  even though she knows Tara won't get annoyed in the way she so fears.  She's good like that.

It also doesn't help that the idea of her…something?  could easily tease her for being unspeakably down bad.  Her mouth stays shut with the knowledge that she can only tolerate so much friendly fire from Mindy alone,  choosing to instead scrunch her nose Tara's way.   “I didn't wanna assume!”

“You didn't wanna- oh, my God,”  Tara groans,  tipping her head back like she's entered the most exasperating conversation known to man.  “Tell me now: do you know I like you or do I need to kiss you again?”

“I-”

“‘Cause like,  I will.  As many times as you need me to,  ‘cause I'd really like you to not be shocked when I ask you on a date-”

“You're asking me on a date?!”

“Like that!”  Tara's laugh sounds like the sweetest melody as she shakes her head,  leaning close to press a lingering kiss to Ellie's temple.  Her cheeks feel aflame with the same warmth that lingered up until she was pulled in her father's arms outside the theater,  the same warmth that started when Tara smiled at her years ago.  It's like seeing butterflies lead in a tsunami of everything she's ever wanted,  bringing in a world a million times brighter now that the worst has been flooded away.  “Yes.  Yeah,  Sunshine,  I'm asking you on a date.  I think it's about fuckin’ time we stop being stereotypical lesbians with our U-Hauls and cat son before we even go out to dinner somewhere,  you know?”

The smile on her face is so wide it hurts Ellie to wear,  a small part of her feeling like this might be the dream that death allows her before her eyes open to face darkness.  She doesn't know what to do with herself now that she feels like what she's wanted is closer than ever,  a piece of her petrified to the point of wanting to bolt.

The rest of her wants to grab on tight enough that her knuckles bleed white and nothing,  not divine intervention or a hurricane,  can force her to let go.

For the first time in a long time,  maybe she won't have to be afraid of that happening.

IT'S HALF AN hour before Nurse Wallen comes back,  wheelchair in tow because apparently her father and aunt equally advocated for a less destructive way of getting around the hospital.

She has to say that the idea of popping stitches for a second time isn't favorable,  so maybe they're onto something there.

“Do you want me to come with you?”  Tara asks as Ellie resituates herself in the chair,  clumsily grabbing for the wheels while Tara reaches for the door to Bella's room.  She won't be in this for long,  Nurse Wallen said,  but precautions never hurt anyone.

Ellie-Marie feels a little worse for scarring Nurse Wallen earlier.  She's a nice lady,  even though she doesn't seem to understand why Ellie is less concerned with the fact that she's now been stabbed six times over the course of her entire short life and more concerned about getting the hell out of dodge.

“No,”  she answers after a moment of thought,  gesturing down to what lies in her lap.  “I've got everything I need.  Besides,  I think I should talk to her a little bit.”

She can tell Tara isn't too keen on the idea of her being alone with Bella anymore.  The fact of it all makes her chest ache for reasons entirely unrelated to what she's used to,  moving one hand from a wheel to gently prod Tara's side.  “I'll be okay,  TT.”

“I know.  I do,  just…everything,  you know,  and it's kinda a shocker that she's even alive- just,  like,  are you sure this isn't a trap?”

“It's not,”  Ellie assures with ease.  She doesn't know where she got the confidence behind this idea though she's not backing down from it now,  already moving to get inside before an idea strikes her.   “You can wait right here,  okay?  If I need anything,  I'll scream.  Nothing's gonna happen with you here.”

Her confidence seems to reassure Tara a little bit,  stepping away from the door with a mutter that Ellie thinks is agreement.  It's enough assurance of her comfort that Ellie takes this to be a go-ahead,  pushing into the room as quietly as possible.

“Bee…?”  She questions,  voice soft.  Bella is lying on a stack of pillows in the hospital bed,  face pale and wide eyes visibly sunken in from this distance.  “Bee,  are you awake?”

“Els?”

The acknowledgement gives Ellie the motivation she needs to clumsily navigate around the room,  unable to keep her scowl away from the smaller spaces.  For a hospital meant to be wheelchair friendly,  it sure is narrow.   “Hey,  Bee,”  she greets once she's close enough,  attempting a smile her friend's way.   “How're you feeling?”

“Kinda fucked up,  honestly,”  Bella answers,  frown pinching her features as she squints Ellie's way.  “What's- what're you doing here?”

“I came to see you,”  she answers easily,  hand folding around the bracelet in her lap.  “And to give you something.”

“Give me something?”  Bella repeats,  voice heavy with what Ellie assumed to be drowsiness.  “Ellie…shit,  Ellie,  if you came to kill me then I totally get it.  I swear,  I'm so sorry,  I just-”

“Bee,”  Ellie-Marie interrupts.  She reaches out with a tenderness she typically reserves for Sir Purrington when Bella finally closes her mouth,  pressing the bracelet into the palm of her open hand.  “You dropped this.” 

Bella's expression goes unreadable as she lifts the bracelet into the air,  looking at it like an alien object found on Mars.  “My friendship bracelet…?”

“Yeah,”  she answers easily.  When Bella finally looks over to her,  Ellie cracks a tiny smile.  “We're friends.”

“Still?  Ellie,  I-”

“You did what you were forced into.  I know you,  Bee.  You'd never do anything awful to anyone if you weren't forced to,  and you proved that.  It's not your fault that your family forced you into doing this.”

“No,  but I-I could have said no,”  Bella protests.  It hurts a little,  seeing how little she seems to believe in her own good heart,  but Ellie can't say she really faults that right now.  “I could have done anything.  I could have turned them in,  I could have-”

“I saw what happened when you said no,”  she reminds her gently.   “And I don't think any officers are willing to believe that their coworkers are pieces of shit.  If we hadn't been there when you…if we'd been any later,  you'd be dead.  I'd rather this happen than risk losing one of my best friends.”

The again hangs in the air between them like an execution rope.  Ellie doesn't want to think about how Anika would have inevitably been added to the shrine if Bailey had succeeded,  memories doomed to haunt an abandoned theater Anika would never know anything about.  She'd sit there with her fellow ghosts and cry into the night,  her death a reminder of brutality that may or may not have ended with the deaths of those she left behind.

Anika always liked Bella.  In a way,  part of Ellie feels like she's accomplished something she couldn't the last time she was needed this desperately.

“Ellie,”  Bella starts,  still not entirely meeting her gaze.  “About them.  Are they…they're gone,  aren't they?  My family.”

“Yeah,”  she exhales.  This is the part she wasn't looking forward to,  the part where she hopes many questions aren't asked.  Bella nods at the answer while remaining entirely unreadable,  carefully blank before she looks over the bed.

“They still got you.”

“They didn't get me,”  comes the correction like lightning,  striking quickly to decimate the ground where Bella's clearly resting her guilt.  “They never got me.  They didn't get any of us,  Bee.”

It's a strangely prideful statement that Ellie is forcing herself to believe wholeheartedly,  leaning over as much as she can to properly take Bella's hands.  “They never got you.”

Her best friend's eyes go shiny in a way Ellie wasn't expecting,  lower lip stiffening before she's ducking her head.  There's a certain ridicule that comes with heartache for the damned,  one Ellie's all too familiar with after watching it unfold over the course of her life,  and she's not going to interrupt it now.

“Do you think it's over now?”  Bella asks,  breaking the silence with a tone that shakes despite how Ellie can tell she's trying to control it.  “Everything.  My-what Quinn did,  that can be undone,  right?  This is over.”

Hope is such a precarious thing.  A wild horse that Ellie has always been chasing,  a ray that isn't a promise as much as it is a reason to believe in them.  Perhaps it's childish of her to still cling to the reins after all they've been through,  but some part of her feels like the ghosts might have chosen their ending at last.

“Yeah,”  Ellie breathes,  settling on her answer before she even realizes it.  “Yeah.  It's over now.”