Four

Wynne

The moment the doctors said I could leave the hospital; Zeph went into overdrive making sure I didn't have a moment's discomfort. The man has somehow procured at least a half dozen pillows to pack around me in his SUV, despite never once leaving the hospital in the last 24 hours and is intent on gently tucking as many of them around me as will fit, ensuring even the biggest pothole will not jar me or my wounded arm.

"I feel like there should be a 'FRAGILE' label stuck to my forehead," I joke. "Must be Italian."

Zephyros rolls his eyes at my movie quote, a tiny smirk betraying his amusement. We spent an entire holiday break one year watching old Christmas movies and drinking cocoa while our parents were both out of town for business. Ever since then, whenever we can, we find ourselves spitting lines at one another wherever we can fit them in the conversation.

"We're only about five miles from the hospital. I don't think I'll rip a stitch if we hit a speed bump. But if I do, it's not like we can't turn around and come right back."

Zeph's face pales at that comment, his eyes squinting at the idea of me busting a stitch.

"Don't worry, I won't get blood in your car," I quip.

"I don't care about the car," he grunts. "You got shot, and I couldn't stop it. I'll be damned if I'll let you rip a stitch on top of it."

"And just how did you think you'd be able to stop a speeding bullet, Zeph? This isn't The Matrix, you know. Those thugs were shooting up the whole diner. It's not like you could slow-motion things and get me out of the way."

"I should have seen it coming," he insists. His face is tight with anger, guilt, and something else I couldn't quite make out. "I was supposed to protect you."

"Zephyros Barone, you listen to me," I dictate in my best mom voice. "Last I checked, you possess no psychic powers, no super speed, and no magic shield. You're not Captain America, you're just my ass!"

"I'm your ass, now," he questions. His face more relaxed, and his eyes twinkling as he smirks at me.

"Well... I ... uh... shut up. You know what I meant." My face is on fire as I stumbled over myself, slightly mortified at having implied that he was my anything. I am also slightly shocked that, for the first time since I met him, the implication that he could belong to me in any way didn't immediately drive him to repulsion.

He's just going easy on me because I'm hurt, and he feels guilty about it. Either that, or these pain pills are making me more delirious than I realized.

The drive to the guys' apartment is uneventful. It seems like even the normal traffic of Seattle has bent to Zephyr's will to get me to his home in one piece. As we pull into the parking garage, I note that both Sully's and Brock's cars are there. I guess they all decided to ditch classes today to welcome me. I'm not sure if it's that thought, or the drugs, which have me feeling so warm and fuzzy, but I definitely don't hate it.