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23

Well, I tried to leave the hospital, and ended up right in the EU.
Sweets was shuffled off to a different room as I was examined over and over. Clearly this little town had very few emergencies to come by, so the patients that do come are well taken care of.
What I thought was just a few cuts on my back was actually a huge slice. The attending nurse said it was like an 's' along my spine.
Ten stitches and some mild sedatives later, I was dismissed, with a potential mild concussion. Confused and holding a baggie of drugs, I dragged myself through the hospital in a bit of a daze.
I must have looked quite the sight, shuffling up and down the wards, since a passing physician asked if he could help me find what I needed.
"Sweets," I said immediately, without thought.
I couldn't leave without making sure he was okay.
The doctor brought me to a more secluded wing in the ICU, and I found Sweets lying down with his leg raised in a cast. His face was cut in a few places, but he was out cold, so I couldn't tell if they were painful or not.
Another nurse was filling out his file, and looked up at me expectantly from the foot of the bed.
I stood there dumbly for a moment.
"Where's Daisy?" I asked somewhat dumbstruck that she wasn't already covering him like a blanket, or stroking his hand comfortingly.
"He had no emergency contacts," was all she said. "are you a friend or relative?"
"Yes," I said. "can you put me as his emergency contact?"
She nodded, but said she would have to wait for him to wake up to finalize it.
I was surprised Daisy wasn't his emergency contact. I was also surprised she was nowhere to be found. We were, after all, in the same building.
Nodding to myself, I turned to leave, when I realized I didn't really have anywhere to go but to an empty room that wasn't mine, to lie in a bed that wouldn't let me sleep. Resolved, I timidly took the chair opposite of Sweets' sleeping form, and watched his stomach rise and fall peacefully under his gown.
"Are you alright?" asked the nurse, who was done writing. "you look just as bad as him."
I looked down and realized my sweatshirt was torn shoulder to hip, the zipper split jaggedly.
"Yes, I just got discharged," I said, holding up my doggie bag of prescription.
She hesitantly nodded before heading towards the door.
"Oh, and do you know a Papillon?" she asked.
I froze for an instant. My name was nearly unrecognizable on her tongue.
I nodded slowly.
"Well he was calling out for her the whole time until we put him under. Mr Sweets wouldn't sit still until he was sedated."
I stared and nodded absently until she left the room.
Staring at my hands, I fixed my gaze on the crescent scars in my palms, and the newer scratches that would soon be immortalized on my skin. Sweets was calling out for me? And why did I suddenly decide to put myself as his emergency contact?
I sat for nearly two hours before picking up a phone and calling Booth.
"Booth," he answered briskly.
"Hey, uh, it's Papillon," I said slowly.
"Oh, hey kid, how's the investigation going?"
"Yeah, uh, about that, I..." I began, and suddenly a lump rose in my throat. "I'm in the-the ICU."
I stifled the tears that had begun to breach my lids.
"What?!" he exclaimed. "why?"
"Uh, Sweets and I g-got hit by a c-ca-car," I whimpered. "he-he's i'm really b-bad shape and I"—
I broke off in a sob.
"Okay, it's gonna be okay, which room are you in?"
"C135," I got out before my breath hitched again.
Booth hung up. Not ten minutes later, he slid down the hall, suit, tie and all, followed by a brisk-paced Doctor Brennan and a frantic Daisy.
Suddenly, the room was too full.
Before I could say anything, Booth was dragging me up into a hug, and I could hardly hold in the hiccuping sobs as Doctor Brennan stroked my hair soothingly. I felt like I was being comforted by my mother and father, and I was suddenly so very homesick.
Booth was holding me tightly against his chest, and somewhere deep inside me, I could sense pain in my stitches, but I didn't care.
"Lance!" cried Daisy, throwing herself on his chest and sobbing.
"He saved me," I said weakly.
"Oh, of course he did, my hero," she cried, stroking his sleeping face.
I watched as she fussed over his dressings and talked to him, and I wanted to kick everyone out of the room.
But of course, I didn't.
"Can you take me home please?" I sniffled, and Booth nodded as Doctor Brennan followed us out.
To their credit, they didn't talk until we got into the car.
"What happened?" asked Doctor Brennan.
"So, we were walking back to...I don't even remember, when a car came out of nowhere, and I pulled Sweets into the ditch. He still got hit, I"— I choked again.
"Shh," said Doctor Brennan, putting a reassuring hand on my knee.
"I only got flesh wounds. I could leave after a couple hours. But him? What if he can't walk right, after? What if he's permanently broken and I"—
"Papillon, Sweets has been shot, stabbed, blown up and then some. I think he'll be just fine with a broken leg. It may even keep him out of trouble," chuckled Booth as we pulled up to the hotel.
I stared up at the sign forlornly before getting out.
"Thanks, Booth, Doctor Brennan," I said, which was weak compared to all that I felt I owed them.
"Anytime, Papillon," she said genuinely, and they drove off.