𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕 & 𝙳𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝟸𝟼

Brooklyn awkwardly shuffled into the hospital room. The dim lighting and the distinct smell of sanitation brought back many memories.

Steve lay under the covers of the bed, his head all wrapped up and bruised. He was awake though, that's progress.

"H-hey Randle." She awkwardly waved and pulled up a hospital chair near his bed.

"Hey, W-Win-Winston." He tried to breathe.

"You don't need to try to talk if it hurts. Broken ribs, huh?" He nodded and then noticed her dark brown hair.

He gingerly moved his arm and held the braid in his hand. Steve sent her a quizzical look.

"Ahh. Two forced me to sit still by allowing him to do my hair. It's a normal thing now when I'm pacing around the house." She chuckled at the memories. Steve nodded and smiled.

"A-are you okay?" He let go of her braid and grabbed her hand containing the wrist brace.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a fractured wrist." She shrugged like it was no big deal.

"I'm-I am really sorry Brooklyn." He averted his eyes to his lap.

"Hey, Steve, It's not your fault, we can't blame anyone but that car that pulled out. Don't blame yourself."

———

"Brooklyn Winston! How many times must I tell you? Dont-Blame-Yourself!!" Darry lectured her as she sat anxiously on the couch.

"It is my fault!" She argued back.

"How?" Darry crossed his arms over his upper body, and sat slouched slightly in a dinner chair facing the couch.

"I-I dunno, it-it just is." She shrugged, pursing her lips. She then abruptly put her hands to her head in pain.

"Are you alright?" Darry sat a little straighter in the creaky wooden chair.

"Mhmm," she grunted and squinted her eyes closed.

"What'd ya do to my sister, man?!" Dally strutted in and glared at Darry.

"She won't tell me," he heaved in frustration.

"Just m-my head... it hurts."

"You sure we shouldn't take you in?" Darry questioned.

"Nope, it'll pass."

"Here, let me get you some medicine," Soda offered overhearing the conversation.

"It's alright Soda," she looked up from her hands at Soda who got her medicine anyways. "Thanks." She barely mumbled.

"Let's take a walk." Soda offered Brooklyn a hand and she looked at him with an expression that said 'what the heck are you talking about?' Disbelief pretty much.

"Errr why?"

"I nee- I mean I want to talk to you as your best friend." Soda shot her the movie star smile that never works.

She scoffed. "You wish, but fine. Lets 'talk'."