"I'm here to see Alexandria Sullivan."

Immediately after hearing of Quinn's unexpected predicament, Paloma and Ava dropped Siberia off at home and made a beeline for the hospital, cutting off each and every vehicle that got in their way. If not for the distraction of the urgent situation, both women would've pondered how they managed to safely arrive at their destination.

Despite the gargantuan size of the hospital, Paloma made it to the front desk in record time. Four years of running track in high school finally came in handy.

The brunette's speech was frantic, her breathing erratic while the words breathlessly spilled from her lips following the anxiety spike. The statement nearly came out as one indistinctive word, even so, she was certain that the receptionist understood.

Paloma realized her assumption was correct once the woman tore her gaze from the computer screen before her and finally met her gaze, her expression humorless.

The cat-eye styled glasses sat perched at the tip of her nose as she held out a stack of papers that clung snugly to a clipboard, a pen accompanying the pair.

Paloma cocked her eyebrow and made no attempt to take the items from the woman.
"Alexandria Sullivan," she enunciated again, this time through clenched teeth. "Where is she?"

The woman's dull voice matched her colorless attire, "You'll need to fill out this paperwork first."

The elder Sullivan tensed her jaw in attempts to keep her rising anger at bay. "I'll do it after I see her, alright? Now, would you just check the damn screen and tell me where she is?"

Paloma inhaled sharply once the woman shook her head, the neat, blonde bun atop of her head remained motionless as she did so. "Paperwork first, patient second," she affirmed. "Company policy."

She raised the clipboard a bit higher, hoping that the brunette would finally accept it, but she was sadly mistaken.

"That's a stupid policy," Paloma spit back. "Just tell me where she is and I'll get outta your hair."

The blonde wore a condescending smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am but that's not gonna happen."

"Look, lady—"

Ava intervened once she noted the vicious snarl that accompanied Paloma's narrowed eyes. She was all too familiar with the glare and she didn't want the already tense situation to spiral even further out of control.

To the receptionist's relief, Ava took the clipboard into her own hands. "I'll take care of the paperwork," her calm and steady voice somehow managed to quiet the two women, however, their intense scowl still bored into one another relentlessly. "When can we see a doctor?"

The blonde finally wavered under Paloma's intense glare and met Ava's gentle, green eyes. She let out a soft sigh and readjusted her glasses, her gaze retreating back to the screen of the monitor. "Sullivan, right?" she muttered.

Once Ava granted her a nod the woman quickly tapped her fingers across the keyboard. After a moment, her vexed expression dispersed. "Soon," she assured, her eyes—now less hardened—looked back and forth between the women. "It should be soon."

Ava smiled courteously and made her way to an adjacent waiting area, Paloma stayed close by as the redhead dragged her along, pulling them both down into the nearest seats.

"You gotta calm down, okay?" Ava whispered.

"How the hell am I supposed to calm down when they won't even let me see her?" Paloma matched her hushed tone, though her words held a fierceness that wasn't present in Ava's command. "That lady was being such a bitch."

The mahogany-haired woman let out a faint sigh, "I know it's hard but the only way we'll get anyone to listen is if we stay calm."

Paloma gritted her teeth, obviously unconvinced.

"Hey, we don't know anything yet," Ava tried.

The brunette scoffed, "I know that I got a call saying Quinn's in the hospital. I know the woman I talked to on the phone wouldn't tell me whether or not she was okay. I know that my sister needs me in there yet I'm stuck out here. And that's enough for me to worry, enough for me to know that everything's not okay."

Ava lowered her gaze and settled the clipboard onto her lap. She understood entirely where the other woman was coming from. As much as she wanted to bite the head off of the snarky receptionist, she knew that at least one of them had to keep their head on straight and given the circumstances, she was well aware that Paloma simply couldn't assume that role.

It was only a few moments later when a dark-skinned gentleman approached the women, the sleeve of his white lab coat clung snugly to his wrist as he extended his hand. He wore a small smile once Paloma stood, accepting the gesture.

"Ms. Sullivan, right? I'm Dr. Clyde."

"What happened, where is she, can I see her?"

"Your daughter—"

"Sister," Paloma corrected.

"—was in a collision."

"I got that part," she relayed. "What's the damage?"

"Well," he pressed on, "she suffered a break in each of her legs, a severe dislocation in her left shoulder and broken ribs. There were also a few minor injuries—whiplash as well as some lacerations that can be found on multiple areas of her body."

Ava matched Paloma's appalled expression, the fear in their eyes spoke volumes even though they lacked the ability to voice their concerns.

After what felt like an eternity, the brunette finally broke the silence, "Okay, well, that's all treatable, right? So that's good."

"Yes, of course," Dr. Clyde assured. "However, those aren't the injuries that I'm most concerned with."

Paloma instantly felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach as the atmosphere shifted.
"And what is it that you're most concerned with?"

At that moment, Paloma wished she had a pen, a paperclip, something—anything—to fidget with as her anxiety got the better of her. It didn't take long for her to revoke back to her old habit; her teeth tore into her fingernails as she listened intently.

"She also seems to have suffered a diffuse axonal injury."

Ava voiced the question that she was sure both herself and Paloma had, "And what is that exactly?"

"It's among the most common and most devastating forms of traumatic brain injuries. It occurs when the brain rapidly shifts within the skull, such as with a car accident," the doctor retorted. The women immediately picked up on the earnestness his eyes held.

Ava wet her lips. "Will she be okay?"

"Well, it's difficult to say. The injury caused a disturbance in her brain. Brain injuries are a rather serious condition and must be monitored extremely closely."

"Wait, so...she has brain damage?" Ava queried.

"Yes, the injury caused lesions to form in multiple areas of her brain."

"And you're sure about that?" she pressed.

Dr. Clyde tucked his hands into the pockets of his lab coat as he took in a small breath. "I'm certain. You see, diffuse axonal injuries can only be determined via neural imaging and while this process is sometimes difficult to asses in its entirety, I took it upon myself to run several MRIs to ensure a proper diagnosis, particularly due to her critical state. But we're hoping that she will soon be classified as a moderate case as opposed to severe."

"Critical?" Paloma peeped.

"Moderate." Ava nodded and glanced at the brunette before returning her hopeful gaze to the doctor. "You said 'moderate'. Moderate damage, so that's good. Well, not good but it's not terrible, right?" she pleaded.

The man let out a soft sigh, "Traumatic brain injuries are divided into three different groups, all based on a patient's state: mild, moderate, and severe. An individual's condition is determined through tests that evaluate their eye movement, verbal responses, and motor responses. These tests were initially performed at the scene of the accident. When this was conducted on Alexandria she received a score of eight which indicates that it's a possibility that she has a severe diffuse axonal injury, however, she won't be officially diagnosed unless she remains in a comatose state for six hours."

Ava grimaced. "How long has she been out?"

"For an estimated three hours, so these next few hours are quite critical."

"But if she wakes up soon, then things will be better, right? That'd mean the damage isn't severe?" the redhead urged.

"That's correct. Currently, Alexandria has not been formally diagnosed but if she makes improvements, even minor ones, within the next few hours then the situation will be much better. Though I should inform you that in these cases, even moderate damage can be detrimental as the brain is a rather fragile organ."

"How detrimental?" Paloma demanded.

"These kinds of injuries can lead to permanent brain damage, a coma, or in extreme cases...death. And even then, the full extent of the damage can only be assessed if the patient wakes up."

"If," the brunette repeated nearly soundlessly.

He nodded. "Diffuse axonal injuries almost always leaves moderate to severe patients in a comatose state."

"So, best case scenario she has wakes up with a moderately damaged brain, worst case, she doesn't wake up at all?" Now Ava too found it nearly impossible to maintain her calm demeanor.

Dr. Clyde offered her a modest nod. "More or less...that's right."

Paloma blinked languidly, suddenly her eyelids felt much too heavy.

"In some cases—'miracle cases'—even patients that are severely injured wake up in as little as a few days," he abruptly informed. "In others, it takes months...years even."

"Miracle cases? What about the majority?" Paloma murmured. "What happens to them?"

He averted his gaze, his reluctance didn't go unnoticed by either woman. "...They don't wake up at all."

The brunette scoffed and swallowed thickly, her gaze settled on the adjacent wall as she stared mindlessly.

"The good news is the lesions that appeared on your sister's neural images aren't among the most severe that I've seen."

"So there's hope," despite Ava's avowal, the trio knew that her voice lacked conviction.

"It's hard to say for sure but...I truly believe so," he contended. "However, the lesions found on her brain are only the introductory damages. Traumatic brain injuries are divided into two kinds of injuries—primary and secondary. Primary injuries are the initial injuries—the lesions. Secondary injuries, on the other hand, are the aftermath of the trauma."

Paloma furrowed her brows. "And what do these secondary injuries consist of?"

"They can consist of insufficient blood flow, insufficient oxygen to the brain, swelling of the brain as well as a variety of other issues. All of these can cause further damage and can possibly kill other brain cells which is why she must be monitored closely. Sometimes these problems don't come to fruition until hours or sometimes days after the trauma, therefore, management and prevention of secondary injuries are among the most critical for individuals with this condition, particularly if they're placed in the intensive care unit like your sister."

"Shit," Ava muttered. "The ICU?"

Paloma roughly rubbed her red eyes. "God, I just saw her earlier, she was fine and now she's..." She allowed her words to trail off before meeting the man's gaze. "She left the house hours ago and I was calling her nonstop. I was worried outta my mind and she was here this whole time? Why the hell wasn't I contacted immediately?"

"Paramedics didn't come to the scene for quite some time. I was told that the incident occurred in a location that was a bit more remote than others. That on top of the late hour, no one knew about the accident. It was actually the other driver that called 911, once he finally came to. It's a miracle that both victims were still in a state where treatment may still be helpful."

Paloma took in a deep breath and nodded her head. "...I wanna see her." She frowned once the man stepped in front of her, ceasing her movements entirely.

"She's currently in the ICU, we're monitoring her closely, keeping her stable. You'll be able to see her soon and the second that happens, I'll let you know." The sincerity his sympathetic expression held was perhaps the only thing that convinced Paloma to listen. He gave the women a pitiful smile before leaving them to their thoughts.

"Come on," came Ava's gentle command. She guided the brunette back to sitting area and hoped that the torturous wait wouldn't be too extensive.

"You want me to call Ross? Maybe...Charlie?"

Ava's voice was uneasy and cautious, despite how quiet the query was, the words still managed to pull Paloma out of her trance.

"Uh...no, no, it's late. I don't wanna worry them, there's nothing they can do right now anyway. I'll let 'em know later, you know when she's up and talking. When she's okay." The women didn't have to exchange words to know that that may not happen as soon as they'd hope.

Paloma cleared her throat, Ava looked up at this, meeting her gaze. The glossy coat her nut-brown eyes held illuminated her un-fallen tears.

"Hey, um, I really appreciate you helping out with Siberia and giving me a ride here but, it's late. You should go home...get some sleep."

Ava furrowed her brow. "What? No way."

"Ava, there's nothing you can do here. It's a waiting game. There's no telling how long she'll be here, how long it'll be before I can even see her."

The redhead pursed her lips and looked at Paloma earnestly. "I know you and I haven't talked in a while but if you think I'm just gonna leave you here, alone...in this then you don't know me at all."

The other writer returned the expression. "You don't owe either of us anything, okay? You don't have to do this."

"Yeah...I do," Ava contended. "You're not the only one that gives a shit about her. I mean, I don't get outta bed in the middle of the night for just anyone." At this, Paloma wore a subtle smile, Ava matched it with a shrug. "What can I say, the kid grew on me." Her smile faltered a bit after the words fell from her lips. "...A lot."

Once the brunette recognized the genuineness Ava's declaration held, she ceased her argument. Ava returned her gaze to the clipboard in her lap as she put the finishing touches on the lengthy stack of papers.

"Well, the paperwork's finally done." The redhead rose to her feet. "I'm gonna find that bitchy receptionist," she let out a small chuckle and Paloma couldn't help but join in on the short-lived laughter.

Although she was grateful for the lighthearted moment, no matter how brief, once Ava escaped to the front desk a part of her regretted the small distraction because now that it was over it did nothing more than violently drag her back into reality.

She gritted her teeth as she replayed the draining events of the day. Her own pushy tone and so-called 'words of encouragement' that forced Quinn into the comatose state she was in right now.

She lamented the pep talk that led to the girl's departure. They could've stayed inside, watched movies, laughed. It could've been another one of their signature Friday nights, however, now—Paloma feared—the tradition would serve as nothing more than a distant memory, one that would soon be much too painful to recall. At that moment, Paloma was certain that that night, her thoughts would be her own worst enemy.

She was thankful when Ava finally returned. Two steaming cups of coffee were secured tightly in her hands as she reclaimed the spot next to her, offering a more permanent distraction.

"Caffeine?"

"Paloma wore a weak smile. "Always."

The women sipped their hot beverage soundlessly and allowed the rush of the hospital to move around them.

Ava stared endlessly into the pipping cup of Joe and hesitantly disturbed the speechless atmosphere that lingered between them. "She's gonna be fine. You know that, right?"

Paloma's words came out as more of a plea than a demand, "Don't. I'll believe it when she's awake when she tells me herself that she's okay but until then, please...don't."

The mahogany-haired woman nodded in understanding, an apologetic smile accompanied the gesture. "Sorry."

Paloma promptly shook her head. "Don't be. You being here, right now, with me, for us...it's enough. It's more than enough, it's...it's everything."

Ava draped her arm over Paloma, inviting the brunette to rest her head on her shoulder. She ensured that she was out of Paloma's peripheral view before allowing her smile to dwindle away, her gaze settled elsewhere. She could only hope that it was enough because for now...it had to be.