It was a late Friday afternoon. It was cold and judging by the darkening sky, it was sure to rain soon. People's footsteps hastened to get home under dry roofing. Children played on sidewalks, chins tilted up as if to say, 'Come on then, let's have some rain already!'

As for Barnum, he loved the rain. Specifically the smell that came with it. Petrichor. Of course, he never really liked the mud and careful steps to avoid puddles that he had to deal with afterwards, but he tried to live in the moment. There was nothing as pure as standing in the midst of a rain shower, cool water pouring off your face in endless bliss.

A light kick to his shin shook Barnum from his thoughts. The rain was no longer running down his face, it was running down the carriage window. Phillip was sitting across from him, Anne next to Phillip. "I said, when do you think we'll get there?"

They'd only left half an hour ago and weren't even out of town yet, so he didn't know how Phillip would handle the answer of a few hours. Train seemed like a more reasonable method of transportation for a longer journey, but it was a last minute decision to travel a few cities over in search of more recruits for the circus. The plan was to scout the area out and do a little campaigning, decide if it would be safe for the rest of the circus troupe to come along to perform a show, and hopefully inspire some lost souls with their message. He just shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips. "We'll get there when we get there, Carlyle."

Slowly but surely, the city began to fade over the course of the next hour and a half. Pavement turned into dirt roads, modern buildings transitioned to small stores and simple houses. The horse pulled their carriage along a particularly secluded, windy dirt road.

Anne admired the view of the thick woods out the window while holding a circular pillow against her chest, smiling softly. "I've always loved the country. Away from everything loud."

Phillip shuffled in his seat. "I feel a bit uneasy being this far out from civilization," he added hesitantly. "Who knows what could happen out here, and how far away you are from help?" The vehicle jostled through a pothole, earning a wince from Phillip.

Barnum couldn't help but chuckle at his friend. "I'll have to agree with Anne, Phil." Anne beamed. "Gotta love the scenery. Maybe it was just how I grew up, though. I learned to appreciate my surroundings."

No one spoke for a little while. Within the following minutes, Phillip's face had taken on a ghastly pallor. "'M feeling a lil' nauseous," he mumbled through clenched teeth. One of the wheels hit a bump and he lurched forward, taking slow, deep breaths.

"Aww," Anne cooed in pity, although a smile had spread across her face. She grasped his hand. "Wanna hear a joke W. D. told me? What's the best thing about Switzerland? I don't know, but—"

It took a split second. Barnum had no clue what had happened, but one minute everything was upright, and the next there was a horribly loud crashing sound along with everything in his vision being thrown around. He had time to register Anne falling down towards him and allowed his body to brace in order to cushion her fall. What he didn't anticipate was Phillip swinging his body in between theirs, catching Anne's in the process, and then crashing against his frame.

Anne cried out.

Phillip groaned. "Anne? You okay? God, I'm sorry P. T. I didn't mean to fall on you." He carefully maneuvered himself and Anne off of the ringleader's body and onto the space beside him.

Anne gasped. "My ankle, I think it's broken."

Barnum didn't try to move, he could already tell something was wrong, but he craned his neck to get a look at the younger girl's foot. As far as he could tell, it had been sandwiched between her and Phillip in the fall. Judging by the unnatural angle it was twisted at, he concluded that it very well was broken.

He wondered, if he just lay there pretending to not exist, how long he could procrastinate finding out if he was injured. It wasn't really something he wanted to deal with. But he went with his better judgement and twisted his neck to find Phillip's face. "Phillip, are you hurt?"

In answer, he gagged. His face was scrunched up in a grimace, looking at Anne's ankle. "Gonna be sick. Might've hurt my knee a little. Nothin' much. You?"

In truth, he was afraid his ribs might be cracked. Bruised at the very least. He surveyed the damage in a deep breath. His lungs expanded against his ribs and a hot pain blossomed in the right half. His breath caught in his throat but he swallowed it down and answered as calmly as he could. "Bit banged up, but I'm good. Is the driver alright?"

Phillip was on his feet, hunched over in the low carriage. The door wasn't jammed against anything, so it was easily opened when Phillip shoved it. The setting sun filled the room. It was getting late. He carefully swung a leg through the door, hopping through and then disappeared from view.

"Excuse me? Are you alright? Where are—oh. Ah, that looks bad. P. T., he's unconscious with a head injury. Doesn't look good." There was a beat of silence, then a groan. "The wheel's busted. We're on our own."

Well. That's exactly what everyone wants to hear when they're stranded on a dirt road with nightfall approaching.

Anne pushed herself into a sitting position with her bad leg stretched out. "What are we going to do?" The concern was evident in her voice.

Phillip was silent. Barnum tried to formulate a plan. "Phil, how's the horse?"

"I don't know, I'm not a horse person. She looks fine, though. Mr. Fletchly isn't showing signs of waking up anytime soon. He needs to get to a hospital."

That settled it. Wincing, he maneuvered his body to a standing position with as little movement as possible while trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his ribs.

Anne looked at him. "Woah, where are you going?"

"I'm going to ride to the last house we saw and get some help. It's only forty five, fifty minutes back. Thirty if I'm going fast."

"Aren't you hurt, too?"

"Oh, you don't need to worry about me. Just a few bruises. You two, on the other hand, are in no shape to be horseback riding. It won't take me long. You keep that foot elevated, okay?" He looked around and found the pillow, then positioned it by her foot. "Do you think you can raise your leg up a bit for me?"

She nodded, brow furrowed in concentration, slowly raising the broken limb long enough for Barnum to place the pillow beneath it. "You'll be alright?"

Barnum smiled at her well-intended insistence. "Absolutely."

The horse was a beautiful chestnut color with a dark, flowing mane. A black saddle with silver stirrups adorned her muscular back. Barnum let out a whistle. "They look even more beautiful up close, don't they?"

Phillip guided the reins to Barnum's hands. "No pressure, but...night's coming. Quickly. Who knows what type of unsavory characters patrol these woods. Or animals, for that matter."

Barnum hiked his foot up into the stirrup and mounted the horse. He ignored the discomfort it immediately invoked. "Don't worry, I'll be back as quick as I can with help. Just keep an eye on Anne, okay? I think she's a bit shaken up. She's a strong and unbelievably brave woman, though, she'll get through."

Phillip nodded, a blush turning his cheeks pink. "Yeah. I know she is."

Barnum winked, then guided the mare around. He thrust his heels into her sides. "Hiyah!"

That was a mistake.

Pain exploded in his ribcage as the horse rocketed forward, bouncing relentlessly. It was hard to contain a shriek. He couldn't bring himself move; he was sure that would make it worse. Against his better judgement, he grabbed the horn and pulled himself into a forward position in an attempt to relieve the pain. For longer than he cared to keep track of, he rode with his chest inches from the horse's back, hands gripping the reins so tight that they might have fallen off.

Feeling his ribs bow over a stretch of time was the equivalent of watching a crack spread throughout a glass. It was coming, he knew it—he couldn't stop it—and all he could do was anticipate what came next. He didn't hear one of the ribs finally crack. But it was explosion that tore a scream from his throat. The horse continued to jolt him around. The broken edges of the bone grated together in an endless circle of agony. He didn't remember losing consciousness, but he knew that it was a welcomed mercy.

Barnum wasn't sure what woke him up—it was either the sickeningly thick stench of rain beating his senses or falling off the horse. It caused another rib to snap. He gasped. His vision blurred with tears. He watched helplessly as his horse raced off without him, eventually out of sight. Then the rain started. It wasn't normal rain, though. Not the kind he loved. Each drop felt like ice shooting through his body. It didn't take long for the freezing rain to intensify.

Somehow he made it to his feet and started walking. His jacket helped keep him somewhat dry and comfortable for a while, but it too eventually became soaked. His walk slowly turned to more of a forced, shivering shuffle. He wasn't sure how long he walked. It felt like eternity. The moon has finally risen and was the only light he had. Roughly estimated, it was around eight.

Light from a house peeked out from the trees up ahead. At that moment, he wanted to collapse and cry in relief. But that would kind of defeat the purpose if he didn't actually make it to the house.

He pounded on the oak door, leaning against the frame for support. It shortly opened to reveal a tall and toned woman, looking to be between thirty and forty. Her blond hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. It complimented her tanned skin. She held eye contact and radiated audacity.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes," he stuttered, breathing heavily. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a large quilt and sleep the rest of the day off. "C-carriage accident, d-down the road. Three others."

"Mercy," she opened the door wider, beckoning him in. He happily complied. "Are you hurt?"

He waved her off. "'M fine. They need medical at-ttention."

She looked skeptical, but at last relented. "My name is Liza Smith. Lucky for you, mister...." she trailed off.

"Just P. T."

"Lucky for you, P. T, I'm a doctor."

Barnum didn't have the energy to feel surprised. Not that he was against women in major professions in any way, but that certainly didn't mean society wasn't.

She briefly ducked into another room and came back out with a case and a bundle of different materials. She pointed to his chest. "Strip."

It was too tiring to argue or question her, so he shrugged his soaked coat off, then almost took his shirt off before realizing that he should turn away. He was glad he did when he saw the massive bruising covering his abdomen. She'd take too long fussing over him.

A shirt hit his shoulder. He caught it and tugged it on.

"My brother keeps some clothes here. He stays on the weekends sometimes. And you don't have to worry about me looking at you in the wrong way, P. T. But it's fine if you want to stay turned." Once he was covered, she came into view and handed him another article from the bundle. It was a cotton coat. She clothed herself with the last coat in her arms and opened the door. "Come on, let's go find your friends."

He nearly sighed in ecstasy when the warm, dry material hit his freezing skin. But he had no trouble leaving the house and entering the rain again. It was the thought of Phillip and Anne out there, alone, in the dark and freezing rain that spurred him.

"My horse is gone, we'll have t-to walk." The volume of the rain required him to speak loudly.

"I have a car."

It wasn't warm. It was noisy. The seats weren't that comfortable. Still, it beat walking or bouncing around on a massive animal in his current state. His ribs still radiated pain, but at least they weren't grating against each other or stabbing into anything inside. Rain beat against the windows. Sleep hit him like a train five minutes into the trip.

The car rolling to a stop woke him. It was parked on the side of a dirt road surrounded by woods. The headlights shone onto a wrecked and broken carriage. For a second he wasn't sure where he was. Then he remembered leaving Phillip and Anne in the dark and pouring rain. "Phil....Anne," he slurred and reached for the door handle.

Liza hushed him, grabbing her bag from the backseat. "Stay here." With that, she threw her door open and sprinted into the rain.

He grumbled something about not telling him what to do, then followed her. The rain reminded him how nice the car was. Liza opened the carriage door and peeked her head in. She was talking to someone. Barnum found his way to the entryway.

"You guys okay?"

Phillip was crouching next to Anne. She looked as if she'd just woken up. He smiled big, pearly whites in relief. "Just want to get out of here already." Their eyes turned to the unconscious driver, Mr. Fletchly, propped up in the corner. "He needs medical attention. He woke up once, but he was delirious. I tried to keep him awake but to no avail."

"You did well, Phillip, you're not to blame," Liza praised. "You and P. T. carry the driver to the backseat. I can take Anne."

The rain was slowing.

Said person scooted over as close as she could for Liza to pick her up bridal style. It looked like the older woman had no trouble carrying another grown woman. That left room for the boys to drag Mr. Fletchly out a bit, where he was more easily accessible.

"I get the legs, you get the arms?" Phillip suggested, already hooking his fingers beneath his knees.

Barnum placed his wrists under the other man's armpits. "One, two, three—"

Mr. Fletchly was heavier than he looked. Barnum guessed they weighed around the same, though his own was more in muscle. So when he hefted the man up, flexing muscles from his biceps to his abdomen, the sharp stab of pain stole his breath. His next breath was shallow and quick.

"You okay? You don't look so good." Concern was etched into Phillip's features as they carried him to Liza's car.

"Hm? Yeah. Good." He swallowed. Just a little further...He took another step backwards and stepped in a hole. His ankle gave way and sent him sprawling on his back with Mr. Fletchly on top of him. Another rib cracked. He bit back a scream but couldn't stop the groan that managed to slip out.

Liza was suddenly at his side. "Hey, are you alright? And quit telling me you're fine, I can tell you've been through a lot tonight."

Barnum shook his head and struggled to push himself up. "Just my ankle, I promise. It's only a sprain. Help me up?"

Liza growled quietly in skepticism but grabbed ahold of Barnum's bicep and helped pull him up. She had a strong grip. "Go get in the car, P. T. Phillip and I can load Mr. Fletchly in."

Barnum wasn't in a place to argue. With shaky arms he let Phillip and Liza take the weight off him and begin to secure the unconscious man in the backseat. Once they started back to the house, he welcomed sleep yet again.

Fingers painfully prodding his chest pulled him from his sleep. He groaned and pushed the hand away. Even with his eyes closed, a source of light invaded the darkness.

"Quit that." It was Liza. "Your breathing was raspy and shallow. I figured it was something like this. You should've told me your ribs were broken."

Prying his eyes open, he realized he was still in the car. The rain had been reduced to a mist. She was standing next to his open door, leaning in for a closer look with a lantern in hand. His shirt was open against his exposed chest. "Where are they?"

"They're in the house, warming up and eating a bite. We need to get you taken care of. Any other injuries I should know about?"

"No," he wheezed. "And neither does Phillip or Anne. Please d-don't tell them." He was pleading now. "Don't want them t-to feel bad."

She started buttoning his shirt back. "For letting you go get help?"

He nodded as she helped him out of the car. With his twisted ankle, he could only limp up to the porch. Liza's hand was on the doorknob, but she looked at him first.

He nodded and straightened his posture before she pushed the door open. A wave of warmth and comfortable lighting welcomed him along with the sight of Phillip and Anne huddled together on the sofa, wrapped in blankets. She had her splinted foot propped up on the ottoman. They held bowls of soup, taking slow bites. Mr. Fletchly was sitting, now conscious, on the opposite sofa with a bag of ice pressed to his head.

"Mr. Barnum," he looked up, surprised. "My deepest thanks to you. I'd likely be dead if it weren't for you and Miss Smith."

He shook his head, "It was nothing. Anybody could've done that."

Liza waved him off even though she had a shy smile. "Just doing my job."

He turned to Phillip and Anne. "And thank you, too, for tending to me whilst Mr. Barnum sought help."

Anne gave one of her smiles. The kind that brightened your world. "My pleasure, Mr. Fletchly. We were only sorry we couldn't make you more comfortable in that carriage."

Phillip nodded. "Yeah," he agreed through a mouthful of vegetables. "Exactly what she said."

Liza turned to Barnum. She spoke quietly. "I'll fix you some soup, but go to the washroom. I'll met you there in a minute and wrap your chest up.

Without another word, she walked off to the kitchen. Liza wasn't the type of person to argue with, so he obeyed her instructions and left to the restroom. Away from watchful eyes, he allowed his shoulders to sag and propped his palms against the counter for support. His body ached. It felt like forever before Liza quietly rapped her knuckles on the other side of the door in a request to enter.

He nodded, forgetting that she couldn't see him. "You can come in."

The door was pulled open and she entered, then soundlessly closed it. "Are Phillip and Anne together?" she wondered aloud.

He huffed to himself at the thought of Liza, as kind as she seemed to be, frowning upon their relationship. "Yes," he answered bluntly, looking her in the eyes.

She nodded, sorting around in her cabinets. "Don't worry, I'm not discriminative against...uncommon pairings. They're cute. Aha," she pulled something out that looked like a type of corset. It was a wide, canvas, wrap-around device. The inside was lined with some sort of soft cushion. She waved her finger around at him, gesturing for him to remove his shirt. "So, why were you traveling?"

He started to undo the buttons. "Have you heard of my circus a few towns over?"

Her lips quirked into a smirk. "Oh, you're that P. T.? I've read about it in the papers. Despite what the critics say, I think it's a good thing, what you're doing."

That brought a smile to his face. "Thank you. We just decided to travel a bit to recruit some more people." The last button came undone and he slipped it off his shoulders.