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The next thing Y/n remembered was staring up at the wooden rafters of the Monastery's ceiling. She quickly concluded that she felt like complete shit before noticing Pixal hovering by her side.
"Are you feeling alright?" the nindroid questioned. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed some Nerve-Numbing Tea from your stores."
Y/n certainly didn't feel alright, but she wasn't about to devalue Pixal's efforts and instead made the executive choice to pretend her ribs weren't actively caving in on her lungs. "I'm feeling fine. Thanks, Pixal," she said, sitting up. "And you don't have to worry about the tea."
Pixal sensed she had questions, quickly explaining, "You've only been out for an hour. I suspect you've sustained blows to your head that resulted in a mild concussion. In addition, your ribs are bruised from the fall. I suggest you refrain from strenuous activity for the next fourteen days."
That information flew in one ear and out the other; Y/n noticed that Nya and Lloyd weren't present. "And the others?"
"They're fine," Pixal assured her. "We've been trying to contact Cole, Kai, Zane, and Jay. They went to explore an ancient pyramid and have not been heard from since."
As if on cue, Nya burst into the room. "Pix, we've got reports of flaming snakes rampaging the city." She barely batted an eye at Y/n (who looked like death in her head bandage and mess of bruised skin), accustomed to seeing the peach ninja injured. "Oh, hey, Y/n. Good to have you back."
Y/n slid off of the medical table, landing with a slight wobble. Her head felt like lead, but otherwise, she was ready for a rescue mission. Pixal frowned. "What do you think you're doing?"
Y/n and Nya were already halfway out the door when Y/n turned back to the nindroid with a sheepish smile. "Strenuous activity."
ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊
Nya Smith was a woman of many names: master of water, engineer extraordinaire, goddess of eternal beauty — all that jazz. She also happened to be the enabler of Y/n's risky bullshit, which was how Y/n managed to swindle the team into letting her come with them to defend the city from dangerous noodles.
The boys would never admit it, but Nya's word was law in their team. She was known as the most reasonable of the group, and despite being younger than most of them, the most mature. That didn't stop her from bringing a concussed Y/n along for the ride.
Lloyd had protested (like any reasonable boyfriend would), but they really had had no time to argue. It didn't help that Y/n was barely processing words at that point. By the time they'd picked up the boys from a pyramid in the middle of sandy nowhere, she had recovered enough to hold coherent conversation.
Her brain still felt stuffed full of cotton, and she was leaning a little too hard on her boyfriend for support, but it was too late to turn back.
