-- KEEPING ME ALIVE [Josh]

In light of a recent heat wave, the hospital was even more busy than usual owing to several cases of heat stroke and dehydration. Though Joshua was not a doctor, he too felt the strain as the supervisor ordered everyone around more crabbily than usual and glared down any person who thought to stand still for more than a few seconds. Josh respected Stacy but he made a note to stay out of her way unless he was in dire need of talking to her. As he was a student studying pre-med and his father owned the hospital, Josh was sometimes allowed to help deal with the less serious cases, things that involved simple scrapes that anyone with knowledge of first aid and anatomy could deal with. There usually wasn't any need for this (the hospital preferred to trust its professionals for the most part) but on the busiest of days the advanced volunteers that were allowed to help out didn't have much of a choice. Though he regretted that people had to be hurt in order for it to happen, Josh enjoyed the busier days. It gave him actual, hands-on experience in the environment he one day hoped to work in full-time. It had also helped him secure the job as a medical aide at the retirement home when the staff at the hospital were able to put in a good word. He was genuinely pleased with the amount of trust being placed in him lately and felt calm despite the hectic environment of the hospital.

When Stacy was preoccupied, Joshua ducked down a side-hallway and made his way over to one of the water dispensers, taking a long drink and leaning against the wall to recollect himself. He might have felt calm but he was starting to feel the effects of darting around the maze-like hallways of the hospital for the past few hours. He'd offered to extend his usual volunteer hours when his supervisor had commented on how much there was to do that day and though he didn't regret it, he had to wonder what sort of a state he'd be in when he got home. This is what you wanted, he reminded himself. And it was, so he didn't complain, just pushed off of the wall and went back to work. Some time later when he was finished with the assigned task, Joshua made his way back to Stacy and hoped she wouldn't be too short with him. Her brown eyes were critical as she narrowed them in his direction, apparently trying to deduce whether or not he was slacking. "Dale," she said, frowning. "What do you need?" He told her that he'd finished what she'd asked him to do and she gestured over to the attendant at the desk. "Well don't make yourself scarce, make yourself useful and go see if she's got anything you can handle." He could have argued and said that he wasn't standing around idly and watching the dust collect but he knew better than to challenge the woman after so many years of working with her. Instead he nodded and approached the attendant as he was told.

"Stacy griping at you?" the attendant asked sympathetically when he leaned against the counter and asked if there was anything he could get up to. He chuckled and nodded as the woman searched through the patients needing care for anything he was capable of dealing with. "She gets like that. I'm surprised she hasn't been promoted." Though he, too, had wondered why Stacy forever remained in the middle of the food chain, Joshua replied with, "Oh, I don't know if she'd want to be. I think she likes bossing everyone about as she does." The attendant seemed to think this was quite amusing. After a moment she nodded to herself and gave him a room number, saying something about a bruise. Confident this was up his alley, Joshua navigated the hospital halls until he reached the room with the small golden plaque beside the door indicating the room he'd been directed to. He wore a relaxed expression as he walked through the door, an expression which slipped immediately when he caught sight of who he'd be dealing with. In an attempt to be professional he wiped the shock from his features and assumed a neutral expression but he was sure she would have been able to catch it in his face. "Lark," he said. "I didn't expect—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. It was obvious he wouldn't have expected this, there was no use saying it.

He gave a bit of an awkward pause as he realised he was supposed to be treating her and wondered whether or not Lark would trust him with such an important matter. He helped out in the Medical Wing all the time but he was not sure she knew that and hospitals were a bit different. "It's been a busy day so I'm helping out more than usual," he started, to explain why he was here instead of ferrying some drug or another between the pharmacy to the rooms. He did a lot of that. It was no wonder he stayed thin with all the exercise this job gave him! "If you'd prefer someone, you know, professional, I could get one of the doctors." He gave this option to some of the patients when he was asked to help them simply because he didn't want to be blamed if they were uncomfortable. He was just doing what everyone told him to do. "Or I could help you. I'm not completely incompetent, y'know." He used humour as a mild attempt to lighten the situation, trying and failing to avoid the more difficult matter at hand. Lark was hurt. "What happened? They said something about a bruise—did you get into a fight?" He automatically assumed that some idiot had crossed her temper and she'd just gotten the worst of it.

He swallowed awkwardly when his friend averted her gaze, wondering what was going through her mind. His own was a mess of confusion and concern, having pretty much flat-lined the moment that he'd stepped into the room. He shifted uncomfortable and stared at the blank white walls and the stainless steel sink, breathing in the smell of antiseptic and incredible cleanliness. The smell of the hospital did not concern him, of course, for he'd worked here for several years and was used to it. It was his friend that was worrying him as she sat there injured and in pain. He was glad when she finally looked back at him, if only because it assured him it wasn't his fault she was so uncomfortable. He had been a little concerned that she'd thought of him as incompetent or something but the fact she said it didn't matter soothed his concerns. He noticed her flinch and swallowed again, trying to separate his concern for a friend from his professional concern for a patient. This is why they don't usually let families treat one another, right? His father was adamant about looking after the family and would always opt for treatment at home before sending anyone to be hospitalized, knowing that there they would likely be forced to see someone with no attachment. He knew that it was meant to keep the strain off both doctor and patient and appreciated that but he decided it was better not to back out now.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice quiet but audible. "I know what I'm doing. They wouldn't let me anywhere near you if I didn't." He'd already said as much before but it had been spoken lightly to ease tension. Now he said it much more seriously in an attempt to reassure her that he wasn't going to screw anything up. He certainly hoped he wouldn't. Josh was confident enough in himself, though, else he wouldn't have dared take on something like this. Screwing up around a total stranger was one thing, it was ten times worse when the victim was a good friend. He nodded when she said that it was a fight, lips twitching but expression appearing strained. No, it wasn't surprising. Lark usually handled these sorts of things herself thanks to her pride, though, and so he could already tell it was going to be bad when he realised she'd sucked it up and came here. Keep calm, he reminded himself. This would be good practice for staying calm in the future, right? When he was working with serious things like operations and the like he'd need to be really careful and composed. Normally he was flawless in this but the whole situation had caught him off guard. He hissed through his teeth in surprise when he saw the massive bruise, wincing sympathetically. "Some fight," he remarked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't ask any more questions, wanting to get the diagnosis out of the way before he asked what the hell he was diagnosing.

As he was not sexually attracted to Lark in any way, all awkwardness in his tone during the next question was purely thanks to the situation itself. "Do you mind if I take a look? I have an idea of what it might be, but I want to be sure." He'd broken several ribs and bruised or cracked others when he'd been jumped the first time with the nail-embedded baseball bat. He still had the jagged parallel scars along his ribs to remind him of the event. He recalled the sharp pains and how it had often hurt when he'd sucked in more than the bare minimum of air into his lungs, a sharp stabbing pain that could bring tears to the eyes. Lark's description sounded familiar but it was always best to be sure. "I'm going to have to touch it and it'll probably hurt, so please don't punch me. I do have the rest of my shift to survive through, you know, and I don't want any awkward questions." He gave her another half-smile. He was unable to resist humour even in the worst of times. It helped at times to soothe awkwardness at least. "Is it just a bruise on your leg, too? I can take a look at that if you want but if you're convinced that'll be fine without inspection, I'll understand." He figured there wasn't much he could do for her leg. A simple bruise was often better left alone. "I could get you some ice, too, if you want it. It helps." Ice was a good way to deal with bruises. If she had a broken or cracked rib, though, that was a little more concerning. Her leg was indeed the least of her worries. He waited for her confirmation that he could take a look, though, because he didn't want to overstep boundaries.

He was glad that she trusted him enough to let him examine the bruise and he gave her a look that was sympathetic but not pitying. He did not pity his friends because no one liked pity, not unless they were some self-obsessed attention whore that liked anything that focused solely on them. "Yeah, it probably would," he agreed. In order to lift her arm to punch him she'd probably strain the impacted area in some way and end up wounding herself more than she could hurt him. He was almost apologetic as he examined the injury, careful to be as gentle as possible but knowing that it was going to hurt his friend no matter what he did. Yes, he decided that this was definitely why family members were advised or forbidden against treating one another. Lark might not have been family but to Josh his friends were as good as. Still, he was thorough in his determination to get to the bottom of things. He made sure to ask her what hurt and what didn't, treating her as more of a patient than a friend for both of their sanity and comfort. He nodded when he stepped back, having been right on his earlier assumption. "I'm pretty sure you've got some damage to one of your ribs." The bruise was pretty damn bad and so Josh supposed that wasn't all too surprising. "It might be best to get an x-ray to make sure it isn't broken—it could just be bruised or cracked, which poses less health risks. Do you want me to arrange that?" Smart as he was, he could not see through her and so was only going off the indications of pain and what she'd told him about it hurting to breathe.

He now felt even worse for her, because Joshua had broken a couple ribs before and knew how much of a bitch they were to heal. He'd been constantly worried about the possibility of the ribs puncturing something and he'd been forced to rely on painkillers in order to concentrate properly past the stabbing pains each time he inhaled. "Unfortunately there isn't much we can do for rib damage," he said, generalizing 'we' as the hospital to specify that it wasn't his own inexperience with major health issues that was holding them back. "It's best not to wrap it, as that causes health risks. I'd suggest taking it easy and relying on medication for the pain." Then, abandoning the professional air for a moment, he gave her a half-smile and said, "I've broke a rib before so I can tell you it'll take a while to heal and it's a pain in the ass until it does, but you should be alright. You can take it." He was complimenting her on her toughness at this point, knowing that she was as proud and stubborn as he could be and that they could relate on that front. He retrieved the ice when she said that she wanted it, glad that he could at least do something besides telling her that she was fucked and shit out of luck. "Remember not to ice anything for too long at one time," he said, figuring precautions were best taken early in case she didn't know. There was a good chance it was common sense but he always said it anyway to be safe. "Frostbite does more harm than good."

At first Lark's words didn't strike him as anything too out of the ordinary. "Angry and drunk? Were you at a party?" He was no stranger to the brawls that could break out at social gatherings once the temperamental drunks got a couple of beers into them. Josh wasn't too nasty a drunk, something that surprised a lot of people. Then it sank in when he noticed her expression—drunk. An overwhelming wave of emotions hit him at once, square in the chest, and it took him several seconds to sort out his thoughts and calm down. Anger. Upset. Protectiveness. More anger. Breathe, he instructed himself, taking in a slow breath and then exhaling. Calm down. Lark doesn't need you flying off the handle. "Will you be okay at home?" The worry was evident, he didn't even bother trying to hide it. Lark didn't need his anger at her father, she needed a friend right now. Being pissed off at the man—which he certainly was—would not help either of them. "If you want somewhere to stay for the night, my door is always open." Remembering that most of his friends were still under the impression that his door was not his but that of his fiancée, he said, "My parents left me the house so Nell and I live separately now. You wouldn't be imposing on anything." He was reluctant to let Lark go home to a violent drunk who'd just cracked his own daughter's rib and left her with a good load of bruises to boot.

Joshua dipped his head when she said that she would agree to an x-ray, glad that her pride wasn't going to cause her to refuse. He was worried about the possibility of a break. One thing about studying to become a doctor was learning all of the risks that went along with illnesses, fractures, breaks and other things—it could make a situation seem a lot worse when you were aware of all the possible complications. He remained placid and steady around Lark, however, able to keep up some semblance of professionalism even when he was with his friend. "I'll go and do that now," he said, not wanting to waste her time. The x-ray itself was rather quick and it would be waiting for the results that was going to take some time. Twitching his lips at her when it was over and done with, he said, "I reckon they'll get back to us pretty quickly. They haven't been terribly busy today—that's a good thing, I suppose." Heat stroke and dehydration didn't need x-rays and so the influx of patients suffering from these ailments thankfully didn't harm the radiology department too much. Besides, Josh knew the guys that worked in the department and he'd slipped a hint (without Lark's knowledge) that he'd be grateful if they didn't take their time. It wasn't that hard to diagnose whether or not someone's ribs were broken and any real delay would be out of laziness. He still had the rest of his shift and couldn't remain with Lark for hours while they stood around shooting the breeze. He could spare a little while and hoped that they'd get back before he had to leave.

Whether it was thanks to what he'd said to them or their general productivity on that day, the radiology department was generous in getting back the results. The crack was not visible on the x-ray (they often weren't) but nor was a break, which was what Joshua had been concerned about. It meant her ribs were either cracked or bruised (though he suspected a crack since her pain seemed more intense) and that she wouldn't have to worry about puncturing a lung. "Now all you'll need to do is monitor your breathing and make sure you don't suppress the urge to cough," he said. "It hurts like a bitch, believe me, I know, but it could make you sick if you hold it off." Luckily for Joshua he'd been recovering at home with a doctor in the family who had watched him like a hawk to make sure nothing new developed. Donovan had been irritating at times when Josh had only wanted peace and solitude but he was grateful for it looking back, knowing that he'd have sooner taken risks and avoided the pain rather than coughing when it felt like his ribs were trying to carve him open from the inside. He frowned at his friends when she refused the offer, hating the word 'burden' as it passed her lips. "There's only me and my sister," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure Annabel wouldn't mind your staying one night so that you don't go back there when there's still some sort of... danger." His jaw set and locked for a moment as he fought back another wave of anger. He hated the idea of Lark's father slapping her around.

He blinked calmly at her when she laughed despite the fact that the sound made his gut twist. He wished there was something more that he could do for her—she was one of his closest friends and it seemed there was very little power in his hands, here. He gave her a sad smile when she lamented over the loss of the better days in their friendship and shook his head. "I don't mind. I'm glad I can help, really." He actually preferred that his friends go to him for help or advice rather than suffering the consequences of their silence. He knew from personal experience that suppressing or neglecting the things that were bothering you could have a negative effect. Then again, on the flip-side, his own desire to help did not change the fact that he hardly ever went for help when it was him who was in any sort of danger or disarray. He'd talked to Nell a few times when he was upset but he just wasn't the type. Maybe Lark was the same but it didn't change his desire to be there for her. "You're one of my closest friends. I'd be a bit of a dick if I resented you, yeah?" He chuckled himself, and though it wasn't as lifeless as her laugh had been there was still some strain on it. "As for Nell, you can meet her any time you like. We can get together some time." He trusted Lark around his fiancée despite their opposing elements. "School will complicate things, as usual, but our friendship matters to me. No matter what we do when we're hanging out." Even if it was chatting awkwardly in a hospital room.

Again he found himself feeling helpless to assist her as he remembered the pain of his own injuries and how long it had taken them to heal. They had been accompanied by other wounds as well and so had been considerably worse (plus, his ribs had been broken) but it was enough to relate and to sympathise. He refrained from saying so, however, not wanting to disturb Lark's pride. He twitched his lips in relief when she agreed to take him up on the offer, having been reluctant to send her away from the hospital and right back onto the doorstep of the man who'd put her here to begin with. As Lark said, one night might not have been enough, but he hoped to at least let the storm of the night blow over. Maybe her complete asshole of a father would be a little less of one in the morning. He knew it wasn't as likely as he wanted it to be but hope was all he could hold out on at the moment. "We can hang out like we used to, without worrying about being overheard by some idiots with the nerve to rat us out." In putting it lightly, acting like it was going to be a night with a friend rather than what it really was, Josh hoped to put them both at ease. He figured he could pretend that Lark was alright and that it was a normal night for her sake. He'd have to pretend to keep up a guise from Annabel. He didn't want to worry his little sister. She was thirteen now and smarter than a lot of people gave her credit for but it didn't mean he was any less protective than he'd been in the beginning, when she'd just been a toddler and he a stubborn kid.

It always bothered him when his friends acted like they didn't want to burden him with their problems. Sometimes he got angry about it—he couldn't help his anger—but most of the time it was more a feeling of upset. Did they think he was so shallow that he'd see them as a bother if they went to him for help? Then again, perhaps they only assumed he was this way because of how little he said about himself. He didn't care enough about being trusted and relied upon to open up about his own problems only to create some sort of common ground. With Lark he could at least draw comfort from the idea that it was her pride and not his own personality that held her back from the will to talk to him. With others he was a lot less certain. It was strange how someone so mistrusting thrived off being trusted by others. If a friend ever suggested he wasn't good enough to be trusted, it hurt. He didn't expect them all to share their problems but to be told that he was not the type that could be talked to in times of need was like suggesting he wasn't a good enough person. Joshua was far from sensitive but he was not completely immune to a little wounding. It didn't feel personal with Lark and so the slight upset was brief. "No, I wouldn't," he disagreed, his tone still friendly but firm and unwavering. "I resent the people that deserve it. You don't deserve to be resented because you suffered through something and asked for advice." He shook his head. If people deserved to be hated for their issues then he was well on his way to widespread loathing.

He didn't often question the alliances as much as some. He'd accepted his own treachery and tried to obey his new alliance as much as he could, not really seeing his outside friendships as 'bad' because he wasn't letting them get in the way of his loyalty. However, he did regret them when it came to things like this. He wanted to be able to introduce Lark and Nell at school and maybe lunch together in the cafeteria or hang out in the library, procrastinating on their studies in favour of conversation. That was how he'd prefer a meeting to go, not cautiously glancing over his shoulder all the time when they were in company. It had been easy when he was with his old alliance to ignore Devin and Ace at school because he was used to it. He'd started grade nine knowing that he couldn't associate with his best friend and when he'd worked with Ace at the hospital and discovered he was an elemental he'd known that they couldn't be seen together, either. It was different with Lark. They'd been in the eyes of the Academy as friends for years and suddenly his choices had drove them apart. He wondered if Lark or Skye ever resented him for choosing Nell over them, especially since they hadn't been together at the time. They were out for blood. I couldn't have stood against her knowing that. He pushed the thoughts aside, the guilt taking a back seat. "Well, you'd meet her at the wedding," he pointed out. He was smiling, though, obviously kidding. They were bound to meet before then. Noting the time, he shifted uncomfortably and hoped Stacy didn't bite his head off for not going at lightning speed. "I should probably get back to work," he said. "Do you want to wait until I get off and come back with me, or...?" He would leave it up to Lark, he decided.

Joshua dipped his head in acknowledgement when Lark said she would wait, his lips twitching softly when she rested her hand on his arm. "Any time," he replied. He felt bad about leaving her on her own but soothed this feeling by reminding himself of the alternative. Waiting for a friend in a hospital was better than returning home to your deadbeat drunk of a father and getting another rib cracked. As he'd expected, Stacy was as snippy as usual when he approached her again. He endured a brief reprimand for 'taking his sweet time', not arguing because he knew he could have been quicker if he'd had no relation to the patient he'd been treating. Thank goodness she doesn't know about that. He knew she'd be furious with him if she found out he'd spent extra time with Lark out of favouritism. Thankfully he didn't have to endure her sharp tongue for too long as the woman needed him to help out and so couldn't keep him for much more than five minutes. "Go help out in the eastern wing," she said, gesturing unnecessarily in the general direction. He didn't ask 'of what building?' because he was well aware she meant the one they were standing in. "Will do." He was glad to get away and into the sanctuary of the hallways. It could get a little hectic dodging around the other people going about their business but it was something he was used to. A few hours later he finally wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and sighed.

"I'll be the one with heat stroke, next," he remarked to his fellow volunteer. She appeared equally worn out and nodded instead of answering verbally, busy downing a drink of water. "At least we're done for the day." They were two of the few who'd volunteered extra hours and so they would be some of the last volunteers to leave that day. His father had even worked a shorter shift than he had and he ran the place. One of the perks, I guess. He made his way back to Lark and lifted his brows in surprise when he realised she was asleep. Joshua took advantage of her unconscious state to flop down in a chair beside her for five minutes, his legs sore from being on his feet the whole day, and then Josh nudged her arm with his hand to rouse her. "Was it really that boring?" he joked, his voice light. He'd made sure to be gentle when nudging her awake and staying clear of the bruises on her side and her leg. He didn't want to cause her more pain than she was already in. "My shift's up, thank god for that. We can head back now." There were still plenty of cars in the parking lot—while most of the volunteers had left, the hospital could not close. He didn't envy the people working the night shift. People did not stop getting sick or injuring themselves just because you wanted to get to bed at a regular hour. It was still light out being that it was summer and didn't get dark for a while but he knew it was almost dinner-time.

Sure enough, Annabel was waiting for him when they got back, hand curled around the end of the banister as she swung loosely back and forth. "Where were you? I've been home for like, an hour. I'm hungry." She could take care of herself in the house and so he was not too concerned that she'd been alone. Besides, it didn't really count as alone when there were maids going about the house and doing the cleaning. "Stop hanging off the railing, Belle, you'll break it," he replied as he switched on the lights and pulled off his boots, setting them in their designated cupboard. "You sound like Mum," she said, not listening to him as she continued to sway with the support of the rail. "What are we eating?" He rolled his eyes but looked amused as he turned his attention to Lark. "Looks like I'm cooking. Want anything?" He wouldn't mind if Lark kept him company while he busied about in the kitchen, either. There were stools along one side of the large kitchen island that ran down the centre of the room. "Hey Lark," said Annabel cheerfully. "You staying over?" Josh had not realised how hungry he was until he caught a glimpse of the food upon opening the fridge, his stomach growling in response. He put some potatoes and meat in the oven (the latter not to be eaten by Josh himself, of course) and pulled out the ingredients for salad as well. "What do you want to do after dinner?" he wondered. Annabel had since relocated, so he said, "Obviously nothing too strenuous, but to be honest I'm not in the mood for anything energetic myself. Long day." He was glad to finally be home, albeit home and cooking dinner.