My world was a swirl of pain and darkness and blinding lights and more pain.

My whole body felt black and blue. My leg was numb and my arms were numb and my head and my whole body ached and my eyes were blinking constantly blinking and the tears tried to spill but they wouldn't come out and I couldn't move and my head was so heavy and I wanted to cry and I felt so miserable and I just wanted to hide, forever, and never come back, not ever, and tuck away in the darkness and never come back and have to face my sister or anyone.

I creaked open my eyes. I never wanted to open them again, but I had to see if I was... alive? Intact? All in one piece?

I found myself lying on a hospital bed inside a small room. There was a large window in one wall, and it looked out over the city. City? I wondered. It didn't look like my town... where was I?

I mustered up the courage to lift my head and look down at myself. Both my arms were in huge casts that came up to my mid upper arms, and one of my legs was in a huge cast, too. I could feel bandages wrapped around my midsection and head. How fast was that car going?

"Honey, you're awake!"

I squinted blurrily at my father, who sat in a chair by the window.

He looked relieved. "Nickers, you feel alright?"

I blinked. My glasses were on the bedside stand, among vases of flowers and stuffed animals. "I, uh," I swallowed. My mouth was so dry. "Been better," I managed quietly, holding back the tears. My head ached with a dull pain that seemed to penetrate even my thoughts.

"Are you thirsty?" Dad asked me, holding up a water pitcher and a glass of water.

I nodded. "Thanks."

He carefully held the glass up to my mouth and I drank slowly. The cool water eased my sandpaper throat.

After I was finished, I asked, "What happened? How... how'd this happen?"

Dad looked down. "Willa and Z saw it all. They said Willa was standing on the road, paralyzed. You raced into the road to grab her and you saved her, but..." he sighed. "The driver's brakes weren't functioning properly, and she had been driving way too fast for a neighborhood anyway, and she slipped on the ice."

I vaguely remembered those happenings. I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to think. My head hurt.

"Where's Mom?" I asked my father.

"With Nolan. She... wanted to be with him."

I blinked. Cold dread seeped through me."He's not..."

"No, he's good," Dad said quickly. "Stable. The disease seems to be waning a bit."

I stared at my dad, relieved. "So he'll get better?"

Dad allowed himself a weary smile. "We're hoping so."

I tried to sit up and gasped at a sharp, terrible pain in my ribs. Broken? I wondered. That made me shudder. If my ribs were broken... had I had to get surgery to set them? Did doctors even have to set ribs?

I smiled through the pain in my chest. "Nolan... you really think..."

Dad's smile faded. "Well, Nickers, you need to remember not to... get your hopes up. We all need to. HLH has a very low survival rate, and..."

But what he said didn't phase me. Nolan might get better. Nolan might get better! Joy filled me, from my toes to the crown of my throbbing head.

A knock on the door summoned my attention, stealing some of my joy when I saw the people at the door.

A nurse walked in, with two kids trailing behind her. Z and Willa.

Z saw me and looked relieved, coming over and greeting Dad and I. He sat in another chair, staring silently at my casts. I hoped he was okay.

Willa stood in the doorway, only moving when the nurse nudged her into the room so he could leave.

Her eyes were downcast, and she had dark bags under them. She looked almost as bad as I felt.

Z and Dad stood up and moved to the corner of the room, to look out the window. I suspected they were giving us privacy but didn't want to say it aloud to make things more awkward.

Willa took a few steps toward me. She looked frightened. She should be frightened. She was the reason I got so hurt!

But... I couldn't be mad at Willa.

Because... it was my fault that I got hurt. I had been being a jerk to her, and she had been mad because I hadn't told her that Nolan was sick as soon as I heard.

And she was my little sister.

And, deep down, I cared for her.

Maybe not as openly as I cared for Nolan, or Z, but I still did.

I remembered flashbacks of when Mother first brought Willa home from the hospital. Willa had been so tiny and ugly as a baby, and yet, I'd still been excited to hold her and love her. We had been good friends for years as she was a little kid still. We'd used to play together and build Legos and make clothes for our dolls together....

But then, a wedge had come between us.

And as each of us grew older, that wedge grew too, driving us further and further apart.

That wedge wasn't just a singular thing. It was many things... friends... school... boys, although very little, in my case... but the worst things weren't what we did to make that wedge bigger, they were what we didn't do to fix it. And here I was, lying in a hospital bed, covered in casts and bandages, for doing something that my sister has no clue why I did it. Willa doesn't realize why I ran in front of that car for her. I can see it plainly, written on her face.

She doesn't realize that I love her, but the more important reason...

She thinks it's her fault.

Oh, Willa.

Willa, Willa, Willa.

I love you.

I really do.

We aren't even that kind of sisters, but... I still love you.

You're my baby sister.

I love you more than anything else.

I would run in front of a car for you again. I'd do it again, and again, and again, so long as you're safe.

I couldn't just watch you stand, paralyzed with fear, as that car raced towards you at a speed that might've killed you.

You're special.

So special.

Why can't I tell you that?

I opened my mouth to try to speak to her, to tell her anything and everything.

To tell her that it wasn't her fault.

That I love her.

But... my lips wouldn't move, and Willa blinked at me, hurt and pain and a million words carved onto her face told me that she wouldn't believe me, even if I tried to tell her everything.

Because I was too late.

I had ruined our relationship.

I'd gone too far, sometime, somewhere, and wounded her badly.

What do I do?