Sky woke up feeling like shit.

She ached all over, her head hurt, her throat was burning and her mouth that was so dry it hurt, tasted like crap.

If this was Heaven, God had done some poor advertising.

Though, with all her sins, it was more likely that Sky was going to Hell. She didn't really care, not as long as Kat would be there too and Kat sure hadn't been an angel. So maybe this was Hell, maybe the reason Sky felt like shit was that she was being roasted by hordes of demons.

With a groan, she opened her eyes. A dull, sterile room surrounded her - white walls, a monitor by her bed, blinds on the windows, flowers on the nightstand. She swallowed her bitter disappointment. This was no Hell - this was something so much worse.

Not again.

The depressing truth of her survival hit her like a truck, taking her breath away. Why? Why? Why couldn't she get even this little thing done? People died every day, everywhere, all the time - why couldn't she fucking die already?

A flood of memories swarmed her foggy mind, each and every one of them more painful than the previous one.

Matt throwing her down the stairs.

The gunshot through her shoulder.

The taste of blood on her lips, the cold floor under her back.

Kat's lifeless eyes.

Waking up in a hospital, seeing the tears in Dad's eyes.

The Medal of Honor in her palm.

Wasn't it enough? How much more did she have to take?

Sky was too tired to even cry but the pain of her broken heart squeezed her chest so that her breathing turned into ragged, painful sobs.

"Sky—?" A voice called her name, and she turned to look. There was someone standing by the window - a tall, lean figure against the soft light that entered through the blinds.

Dad.

Slowly he walked to her bed and sat on it, taking her hand carefully in his - there was an IV drip attached to the back of her hand, Sky noticed now. Dad looked like he hadn't slept in days, he had stubble and dark shadows under his eyes, and immediately Sky felt guilty.

She had sworn she'd never put him through this again, but here they were. Apparently, her word wasn't worth shit.

She couldn't even look Dad in the eye but lowered her gaze to her lap, where his hand was still holding hers.

"Hi," Dad said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Shitty," Sky groaned. The tears that were burning in her eyes, fell to her cheeks, making her feel even shittier.

"I'll get the nurse—" Dad made a move to get up, but Sky gripped his fingers hard.

"N—no," she shook her head. "Dad, don't go."

"Okay," he replied and sat back on the bed. "Okay, I'm not going anywhere."

They sat silently for some time, Dad holding Sky's hand in his with a firm, warm grip. There were tears in his eyes, and he looked old - older than Sky had remembered, whereas Sky felt younger, like a stupid little kid again, who is scared of darkness and the monsters under her bed.

"Aren't you mad?" she finally croaked through her sandpaper throat.

It would have been easier to take his anger than this... silence and love.

"Mad? No, I'm not mad. Just... tired." Dad wiped off the couple of tears that had fallen to his cheeks. "You scared the crap out of me."

"I'm sorry."

"I know," he breathed. "It's gonna be okay. We can talk about it later."

Sky didn't want to talk about it later. She never wanted to talk about it at all. But that wouldn't happen, she knew. She had gone through this once already and she knew the drill. Dad would force her to talk, to him, to a therapist, to the doctors - but not today. Later.

The silence was soft, Dad's hand in hers was warm, soothing. Sky knew she didn't deserve his kindness, but she was too tired, too sore to push him away. She wanted to curl up in his lap and cry like a baby.

"How?" she asked after a long silence.

"How what?"

"How am I not dead?" She croaked through her burning throat. "You were supposed to be out."

"Ah. I was," he let out a sigh and rubbed his chin. "Eli called me. You scared the crap out of him too."

That felt like an elephant had stepped on Sky's chest, crushing her lungs.

"Hawk?"

"Yes. He was worried because you didn't answer your phone. Had he not called me, I wouldn't have gotten to you in time." A short silence followed his words. "Sky, he saved your life."

Sky closed her eyes. The room was spinning, the walls were collapsing on her. Suddenly her heart was heavy, her chest ached.

"No," she groaned. "He ruined my death."

"Sky—"

"I'm tired, I don't wanna talk anymore."

Tears were choking her, they weren't salty water but burning acid in her throat as she swallowed them down, down, down. Her head felt like it would split in two, and she was nauseous, she was going to throw up.

All she could think about was the medal, its shining surface, the sharp edges that dug into the skin of her palm when she clenched her fist around it.

She wished she'd never opened that drawer, never seen the damn thing, never gotten her heart torn from her chest and shredded to pieces.

"Are you okay? You look pale—" Dad asked, and Sky shook her head.

"I don't feel so good—"

"Hold on, I'll get the nurse," Dad spoke, and Sky felt how he stood up from the bed, heard his hurrying steps rushing out of the room. His voice had a tense, hard tone when he called for the nurse, but Sky wasn't listening anymore.

She was already falling into the sweet, dark oblivion that would let her forget everything, at least for a little while more.

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