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Chapter Text

Beth goes down in the seventy-third minute of her home match against Manchester United. 

She and Tooney both jump for one of Leah’s long balls, trying to head it onto one of their teammates. Ella comes from Beth’s blindside and leaps, jerking her head forward to try to direct the ball as it falls. She shuts her eyes, bracing for the impact-

White hot pain lances through her forehead. She’s collided with something- no, someone. She’s collided with someone midair. She lands blindly, slapping a hand over her head as her eyes start to water and her ears ring. She gets to her knees and grits her teeth, holding her head as she waits for the worst of the pain to clear. It’s odd - there’s a lot of voices around her, but no one seems to be talking to her. No one’s even checking on her. Not even her teammates. Not even Less–

She frowns, blinking her eyes open and feels her stomach drop. There’s a crowd of medics a few feet away, but they’re not there for her. 

Beth’s being rolled onto her side by the trainers. Someone’s holding her head and there’s at least three other people helping hold her rigid, keeping her body straight as they turn her. She’s limp. She’s limp and her eyes are closed and–

Oh god. 

Ella looks around desperately. Her teammates are crowded a few meters away. It’s the Arsenal players surrounding her. She catches Less’ eye, looking at her, terrified. 

“Less?” She whispers. 

Alessia gets down on the pitch next to her. “You okay?” 

“Head hurts,” she says. “Is Beth-”

Alessia’s eyes go watery and she glances over her shoulder. “It’s not your fault–”

“Is she okay?” Tooney asks desperately. 

Alessia doesn’t answer.

“ Less ,” she says. “Is she alright? She’s fine, isn’t she?” 

“They’re worried she has a head injury-”

“That’s alright,” Tooney says. “You’ve got a concussion sub–”

Alessia looks at her pityingly. “Tooney–”

“It’s just a concussion, right? She’s fine. They’re just doing the tests–” she says, looking over. 

Alessia touches her arm gently. “Tooney,” she says. “She’s– Beth’s really hurt.”

“What do you mean ‘really hurt’?” Ella asks numbly. She can see the board they’re sliding Beth onto. She’s got a neck brace on, now, and they’re strapping her in. She’s still not opening her eyes. “Less, what do you mean she’s ‘really hurt’?” 

“She got knocked out,” she whispers. “You two hit your heads together and she just– she just dropped,” she says, horrified. 

“She woke up, though,” Ella says certainly. “She woke up. Was she confused? Is that why they’re-”

“She hasn’t woken up,” Alessia whispers. 

“What? It’s been– Less, it’s been ages– ”

“I know,” she murmurs. 

“No, she’s woken up. It can’t have been that long. The trainers haven’t even checked me for a concussion, yet–” she mumbles. 

“Your trainers were helping ours,” Alessia says gently. “They were helping ours with Beth.” 

Tooney’s face goes ashen. Trainers never abandon their players. There’s two sets - one for each team for a reason. They only ever do that when–

“She’ll be fine, though, right?” She says, turning to Alessia again. “They said she’ll be fine. She’s gonna wake up any minute. It’s not like they’re taking her to hospital or anything–”

Less gives her that same awful look. 

That’s when she hears the sirens.

Chapter Text

Viv’s game had kicked off thirty minutes after Beth’s.

She’s sort of ready for it to be over with, honestly. She’s in London playing Chelsea, which means as soon as this match is over, she’s Beth’s for the whole weekend. And Viv’s got a lot of plans for the two of them. Starting tonight. 

She puts that out of her mind as she turns back to the match, though.

They need her focused. They’re missing a lot of key players with injury and they’ve brought Viv on at the half to be a difference maker. They’re down by one right now. They’ve got to win this match. A draw won’t even be good enough. They’ve got to win to be able to have any hope of keeping Chelsea from winning the league again, and it’s scrappy.

It’s sort of a last-ditch effort, bringing Viv on. She’s only just coming back from her knee surgery and she’s supposed to be managing her minutes, but Gareth had asked her if she was ready and she’d nodded.

She feels ready.

She can win this for them. She knows she can. The girls have been putting good crosses in. It’s just that no one has been on the end of them, with Bunny out. Viv can be on the end of them. She can put this game to bed.

She has to put this game to bed.

So she puts Beth and all her plans for the two of them out of her mind for the next forty five minutes, throwing herself completely into the match.

She’s got to be focused.

No distractions.

Just for forty five minutes. 

It’s Coombsy that tells Gareth. 

She’s on the bench and she’s been keeping up with the other matches. It’s her who sees the news first. She stares at her phone, reading it over and over and over again. Then she pushes to her feet and approaches Gareth quietly. 

“Gareth,” she murmurs. 

“Laura, I’m sorry, you know it’s nothing personal-”

“It’s not about me,” she interrupts. “Look,” she says, holding her phone out. 

Gareth glances distractedly. “I can’t look right now-”

“Gareth ,” she says sharply. “It's Viv's girlfriend. Beth. Beth Mead. She’s been injured. In the Arsenal match.”

Gareth tuts, shaking his head as Jess loses the ball. “That’s unfortunate-”

“It’s a head injury,” she says. “They’re reporting that she’s in critical condition. She’s been taken to hospital.” 

“Oh,” he says. The news is sinking in this time, Laura can tell. He's turned to look at her and is frowning seriously. 

“We need to tell Viv-”

Gareth glances at the clock and shakes his head. It’s the fifty-third minute. They’re still two down.  “We can’t.”

Laura gapes at him. “Gareth–”

“We can’t,” he winces. “We need her focused. She’s got to stay in the match–”

“Her partner is in hospital!” Laura hisses. “In critical condition! She was stretchered off the pitch unconscious!” She snaps. 

Gareth looks torn. “We’ll tell her as soon as we can. As soon as the match is over–”

“We need to tell her now ,” Laura hisses. “She deserves to know!” 

He rubs a palm over his mouth, considering. 

Laura opens her mouth, about to demand he tell Viv immediately or she’ll tell her–

“Go inside,” he says quietly. 

Laura bristles. “I will not–”

He sends her a warning look. “Go inside and find our coordinating staff,” he says. “Have them call and get information from Arsenal. We need to know what’s going on with Beth, how to reach her, where she is, if Viv can be with her, and how we can get her there. As soon as we have everything set, I’ll pull her and tell her.”

Laura hesitates. 

“We need her,” he says, looking like he hates himself a bit for this decision. “We need her to help us win this game, but you’re right, she deserves to know. So we’ll tell her the minute we can get her there. The minute we have news. But until then, we keep her in the dark.”

She gapes at him–

“Go,” he says firmly. “The faster you figure this out, the faster I take her off the pitch,” he says, turning back to the match. 

Laura stares at him for another second before she turns away. 

It takes half an hour for them to get information and figure out where Beth is and whether or not Viv can be with her. It involves about two dozen phone calls and a lot of pleading and shouting, but they figure it out. 

It’s the eighty-fourth minute when that happens. They’re tied, 2-2. 

It takes six minutes for a car to make it to the stadium for Viv. 

It takes Laura forty-seven seconds to grab Viv’s things and toss them in the car. 

It takes her seventy-three seconds to make it back to Gareth. 

They’re in stoppage time. Two minutes remaining. It’s still a draw. 

“Gareth–”

“Everything set?” He interrupts, keeping his eyes fixed on the game. 

“The car is waiting for her. I’ll go with her, tell her what I know on the way.” 

He nods, still looking straight ahead. 

“Gareth,” Laura says sharply. “You said–”

“I can’t take her off now,” he says. “We’ve got ninety seconds to score and win. I can’t waste that time making a substitution–”

“You said–” 

“I know what I said,” he sighs. “But I have to give us the best shot I can, and she’s it. And ninety seconds won’t make a difference for Beth. But it might make a difference for this match–”

“You don’t know that!” She snaps. “And Viv deserves to know–”

“I’ll tell her, Laura. Right at the whistle. I’ll tell her.” 

Laura growls. “You’d better,” she hisses. “Or I’ll do it for you.” 

He nods. “Ninety seconds.” 

84 seconds. Khiara collects. 

76 seconds. Laia’s driven forward to the midfield. She passes it off to Yui. 

63 seconds. Kerstin receives the ball and lays it off to Jess. 

51 seconds. Viv toes the ball away from a defender. It rolls out of reach. 

40 seconds. Jill nudges the ball forward. 

37 seconds. Viv shouts. 

33 seconds. Jill chips the ball, sending it spinning towards the keeper. 

30 seconds. Viv heads it. 

29 seconds. The keeper gets a hand on it. 

27 seconds. Jess makes a diving slide to keep it in. 

22 seconds. Viv hears a thunk as Jill gets the rebound. 

21 seconds. The ball hits the back of the net. 

Viv roars. She gets to her feet and slams into Jill, picking her up off the ground. 

They’ve done it. They’ve won. With twenty seconds to spare, they’ve won. 

They reset. 

One second later, the whistle blows. 

The girls crowd around one another, jumping excitedly. Viv gets more than her fair share of head pats. She was the reason for the draw, prior to Jill’s last minute winner. She grins and laughs, looking around. 

She can’t hear the announcement. She can’t hear what message is ringing around the stadium. She doesn’t know what they’re saying to all the fans in the stands. 

But she does know that that’s Beth’s face - that’s Beth’s face on the giant screen. That’s Beth’s face and a message reading All Our Thoughts and Prayers.  

Viv’s face goes white. She looks around. The players are staring at her. The fans are staring at her. She turns to the bench. They’re all staring at her, too. 

It’s Jill that grabs her. “Viv,” she says, frowning. 

“Why’s Beth’s face on the screen–”

“She’s been hurt. In her match. That’s all I caught,” she says quickly. 

“How–”

“I don’t know,” she interrupts. “But I think it’s bad.” 

Viv looks at the bench again. Laura’s looking at her desperately, then glances to Gareth. 

He’s staring right at her. He drops his chin and beckons her over. 

“You fucking knew, ” she growls, slamming her hands into his chest when she reaches him at a near sprint. “You knew–” 

He stumbles back. “Viv–”

“You knew she was hurt and you didn’t tell me!” She yells. She steps towards him again, but Jill catches her around her middle, trapping Viv’s arms down by her sides. 

“I wanted to–” Gareth starts.

Viv struggles against Jill for a moment, completely ignoring her attempts to calm her down. “When?!” She roars. “When did you know?!”  

“Just after the half,” he says quietly. 

A rushing sound fills Viv’s ears after that and she screams. He’s saying something else, but she can’t hear him. She can’t hear anything besides her own pulse thundering in her head and can’t feel anything but unending terror and a sudden need to kill Gareth–

Laura puts herself between them, blocking Gareth who’s looking at Viv like he’s worried she might actually hurt him. She catches Viv by the shoulders, giving her a little shake, even as Jill’s still got her wrapped up. The other girls are starting to wander over now, some at a bit of a run. Viv looks like she’s completely lost it. “Viv!”

“Get off–” she spits, managing to get loose from Jill and Laura’s grip. 

They both reach for her but she manages to side step them, whirling angrily. As she turns, someone else grabs the back of her shirt by her waist, keeping her from stepping forward.

“Get the fuck off me–”

“Viv!” Jess says anxiously, tugging on her shirt again to try to get her attention. 

“Get off! ” Viv screams, not even sure who she’s shouting at, at this point. “Get off! I have to go- I have to go to the hospital–” 

“I know!” Laura shouts, getting her attention by stepping in front of her again, grabbing her by the shoulders. “I know. I’ve got a car waiting for us.”

Viv stares at her. 

“Just follow me,” she says, grabbing the front of Viv’s jersey and giving her a tug. Viv has no choice but to stumble after her to catch her balance, and then they’re moving at a near-run, Laura shoving her into the back of a car and slamming the door shut behind them. They’re moving before Viv has a chance to get fully settled in her seat. 

“Laur–”

“I’ll tell you everything,” she says quickly. “Just listen.”

Viv nods, bunching her kit shorts in her fists, squeezing them tightly. 

“Beth got hurt right around half time of our match. It’s a head injury,” she says, as Viv opens her mouth. “That’s all I know, besides she got stretchered off and taken to hospital, and they say she’s in critical condition.”

Viv chokes. 

“We found out just after the half,” she says gently. 

“Why didn’t you tell–” 

“Gareth told me he’d take you off as soon as we had information for you and a way to get you to her. That way we wouldn’t be pulling you off just to let you sit in the panic,” she says. “It took us a minute to get any news and to arrange a car,” she explains. 

Viv nods. 

“By the time we did, it was two minutes till the whistle,” she says. “Gareth… he decided to let the clock run out, and then tell you.”

“He didn’t tell me, it was the stupid fucking giant screen–”

“I know,” Laura interrupts. “But we didn’t know they were going to do that. Gareth had just told me to go get you when they put her photo up.” 

Viv nods again. “Is she- did they say–”

“Arsenal doesn’t know anything beyond that it’s a head injury. I tried calling the hospital directly, but they won’t tell me anything. But I asked, and they should tell you, since you’re her partner. Just… maybe lie and say you’re her wife. It’ll make things easier.” 

Viv nods again. “Okay.” 

“Almost there,” Laura says gently. "Almost there." 

Chapter Text

Laura helps her. She speaks to the receptionist, murmuring softly. 

Viv stands there next to her, fighting the urge to strangle everyone who walks within ten meters of her. It feels like they’re all keeping Beth from her, somehow, and Viv’s not certain she won’t lose it entirely if someone doesn’t take her to Beth in the next ten seconds. 

“You’re her wife?” The receptionist asks, looking at Viv. 

Laura has to elbow her to get her attention. 

“What?” 

“You’re Ms. Mead’s wife?” She asks again. 

Viv blinks, then nods. 

“Alright, then,” she says, waving over a security guard. 

Viv tenses. 

“Just follow this gentleman, if you would,” she says kindly. “He’ll take you to your wife’s room.” She lists out some location to the guard, who nods, then looks at Viv and starts leading her away. Viv tosses one last glance over her shoulder at Laura, who nods at her encouragingly. 

“Wait!” She shouts, just as Viv turns away. “Sorry, I forgot,” she breathes. “Your phone. Here,” she says, pressing it into Viv’s hand. “Call us if you need anything, alright?”

Viv stares. 

“I’m serious, Viv. Anything you need, you let us know. We’ll take care of it.” 

Viv nods numbly, then turns and follows the security man again, clenching her phone tightly in her hand. 

As it turns out, Beth’s in surgery. 

She’d come in for a head injury, as Viv had been told. There’d been some collision on the pitch with another player and Beth had been knocked unconscious. She’d remained unresponsive until she was in the ambulance, at which point she woke up, briefly. She’d been awake in A&E for a short time. 

Then a lot of things happened at once. 

Beth started acting strange. The doctors realized she was bleeding into her head.  And as they were talking to the surgeons, Beth started to shake. She’d had a seizure - which Viv is told was the reason she’d been taken straight back for surgery. 

“How?” Viv asks. “What sort of surgery–”

“I don’t know exactly,” the doctor explains. “It depends what they find. But she’s bleeding into the space between her skull and the covering of her brain, so they’ll drill a hole, or several, into her head to allow the blood to drain. They may need to fix the source of the bleeding, too. And sometimes people’s brains swell, so they have to remove a large portion of the skull to allow room for it to swell, otherwise it can be… catastrophic.” 

Viv stares. “They’re- they’re going to drill into her head? ” 

The doctor nods. “It’s the only way to access the bleeding–”

She feels her heart start to pound, the blood rushing in her ears as her stomach turns. “They’ll- they’ll kill her! They’ll drill straight into her brain–” 

“The blood pushes the brain away from the skull. There’s space there, so it’s very unlikely they’ll hit her brain with the drill. Plus, it’s designed to stop once it gets through the bone,” he says easily. 

Viv imagines it’s meant to be reassuring, the way he’s talking about it like it’s something normal. Something they do all the time. She still feels like she’s going to be sick. She doesn’t even know what else to ask, or what to say. The doctor says some other things, but Viv can’t understand them at all over the ringing in her ears. She gets taken to a private waiting room and told she can call whoever she likes to come be with her while she waits. 

She doesn’t call anyone. 

But as she sits there, her phone buzzes in her hand. Short ones - texts. A million of them, it feels like. She can’t look at them. She knows what they’ll say. It’s insistent, the buzzing. Like someone tapping on her repeatedly. 

Viv.

Viv. 

Viv . 

It’s been buzzing for a while now. That’s a lot of texts, she thinks numbly. But when she glances down, her screen shows an incoming call, and she feels like she’s dying when she sees the name. 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m so sorry–”

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Rich says, his voice tight. “It’s been a rough few hours.”

Viv nods tearfully, staring at the floor. “I should have called–”

“It’s okay. The doctors called us.”

“They did?” 

“They had to call me to get permission for the surgery,” he says roughly. “And we were watching when she– we were watching the match.”

Viv nods, her eyes fixed somewhere around her feet. Her boots are grassy. “Was it– was it bad?”

Rich sighs and there’s a rustling sound. “Hey, Viv,” comes a new voice. “It’s Ben. Dad’s– he’s driving, so.”

“Oh,” she murmurs. “Sorry, I–”

“It’s fine,” he cuts in. “But it’s probably better if he doesn’t–” he cuts off, inhaling sharply. “She hit heads with Tooney,” he explains. “Looked like she got knocked out. They had to cart her off on the board.”

Viv nods silently. 

“Have the doctors talked to you?” He asks, when Viv doesn’t respond. 

“She’s–” she chokes, swallowing. “She’s in surgery. They’re– I don’t know. Something about bleeding and a drill,” she croaks. 

“Yeah,” Ben replies, sounding completely exhausted. “She’s bleeding in her head. They’re going to try to fix it, get the blood out.”

Viv nods numbly. 

“Viv,” comes Rich’s voice again, gentle. Soothing. “Is anyone there with you?”

“No,” she rasps. “I’m just– they’re having me wait. Until the surgery’s over.”

“Okay, love,” he says gently. There’s a bit of murmuring between him and Ben, which Viv doesn’t catch. But it suddenly makes her horribly, achingly lonely . 

“Are you coming?” She asks, sniffling. 

“Yes, sweetheart. We’re on the way. We’ll be there tonight.”

“Okay,” she whispers. 

The call goes silent, then. They haven’t hung up - she can still hear the sounds of the road, and the rustling as one of them handles the phone. But it’s quiet in a companionable way. She can’t think of anything else to say, anyway. And she doesn’t really think there’s anything they can say to make this better, either. 

After a while, just when it’s getting unbearable to sit here with them on the other line, the door on the wall opposite her opens. Several silhouettes fill the doorway, and a few people come shuffling in. It takes a minute for her to figure out what’s happening, even when they move close and lay a hand on her, one at a time. 

It’s Jill. It’s Jill and Jess and Lauren and Laura. Leah and Kim and Steph and Lotte. They all shuffle in and sit around her, Jill and Lotte taking up the spaces on either side of her. 

Viv lasts about two seconds before she’s sobbing, putting her face in her hands as Jill and Lotte curl around her. Leah and Kim hold it together, but Lauren and Steph burst into tears with her, sniffling quietly; Steph crying for Beth, Lauren for Viv. Someone takes her phone - Kim, probably - and murmurs quietly to Beth’s family before the call ends. 

Viv just sits, sobbing into her hands as people lean against her, laying their heads on her shoulders. Brushing their fingers through her hair.

It takes hours, but eventually the surgeon comes in. Everyone falls silent - the kind of silence that’s oppressive, instead of comforting. He sits across from Viv, leaning in to speak gently. He says a lot of words while Viv nods along quietly. He places his hand on her shoulder gently, then murmurs something and takes his leave. 

All of the girls are staring at her when Viv looks up. 

“Zus?” Someone prompts. 

“I don’t know what he said,” Viv mumbles in Dutch. 

Jill reaches for and squeezes Viv’s hand. “The surgery’s over, ” she answers. “They stopped the bleeding and got all the blood out, but she’s not awake yet. They don’t know when she’ll wake up or if she’ll– if she’ll be herself, when she does,” she says gently. “But you can go see her in an hour or so, they think.” 

Viv goes pale at Jill’s words. 

They don’t know if she’ll be herself. 

She pushes to her feet, staggering for a moment before she stumbles over to the bin in the corner of the room, heaving into it. 

Chapter Text

They sit for an hour, the girls rotating around Viv as she sits and stares at nothing.

Kim calls and speaks to Rich and Ben, to keep them updated. 

Viv doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t react to anyone’s hugs or touches. She doesn’t answer any questions. 

She can’t think of anything besides the moment she had found out Beth was injured. Flashes of the screen run through her mind, interrupted by glimpses of Laura’s face, and Jill’s and Jess’ and Gareth’s. That last face fills her with rage, which she clings to, if only to keep from completely losing her mind. 

Someone comes to get her, eventually. She follows a woman in blue through halls, feeling a bit like a ghost, floating. She’s not even certain she’s actually moving - it doesn’t feel like it. But she must be, because they come to a room with glass windows and a curtain beyond the open door, which the woman draws back with a loud scrape of metal along the tracks.  

Whatever she’s expecting to see, it’s not Beth, her scalp half-shaved, a tube coming out of her head, propped up in a hospital bed. And she’s certainly not expecting for Beth’s eyes to flick open the moment the door clicks shut behind her. 

Viv freezes in the doorway, locking eyes with her. “Beth?” She croaks. 

Beth blinks sleepily and she stares at Viv through half-closed eyes, looking her up and down a few times. 

“Lieverd?” Viv whispers, coming a bit closer. 

Beth tracks her across the room, watching as she comes closer and closer until Viv sits at her bedside. She mumbles something, looking at Viv’s hand as she reaches for Beth’s. 

“What was that, love?” Viv asks gently. She’s trying not to overwhelm her, especially not when she seems so confused, no matter how much she wants to throw herself at her at this very moment. 

“Love,” Beth murmurs, looking at Viv with a little confused frown. 

Viv waits for her to say something else, but she doesn’t, she just keeps looking at her, eyes flicking to her hand clasped in Viv’s periodically before she looks back up. 

“Beth?” Viv prompts. 

“Me,” she slurs, blinking. 

“Yeah, liefje. That’s you. You’re Beth,” Viv nods, voice a raspy whisper. 

“You,” Beth echoes. 

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re Beth,” she nods. 

Beth looks at her, eyes fluttering shut a couple of times as she struggles to frown. “You,” she says again. 

“I’m Viv,” she says hoarsely. “Do you remember me, lieverd? I’m Viv.”

“Viv,” she mumbles. 

“Viv,” she nods, blinking away tears. She has no idea if this is normal or not, if this is expected after Beth’s injury and her surgery or if Viv is getting her first introduction to who Beth is now. That thought has her stomach twisting painfully, her face shifting into a grimace as she bites her lip. 

Beth watches her with interest, but very little recognition on her face. “P’ty,” she mumbles to herself, eyes closing again. 

“What?” Viv frowns, leaning forward. “Beth, what was that, baby?” 

“Y’pretty,” she says with a little smile, eyes drifting shut again.  

Viv lets out a choking little laugh that’s honestly probably mostly a sob. She sniffs, stroking Beth’s hand. “Thank you, lieverd. You’re pretty, too.” 

Beth’s lips quirk at that. “Mm,” she mumbles. “Like you.” 

“I like you, too,” Viv smiles wetly. Maybe there’s hope. Maybe this is temporary. Or if it’s not, maybe this Beth will want her, too. 

Beth’s eyes go wide as she blinks, like she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing. “Like me?” She slurs. 

Viv chuckles. This is something Beth likes to do sometimes, just to be silly. She acts absolutely floored that Viv is interested in her. 

“Of course I do, lieverd,” Viv says easily, repeating the words she’s said a hundred times before. “I love you.” 

“L’v’me?” Beth mumbles, brow furrowing.

Viv frowns back at her. That is not the way she normally responds. She normally hums and says ‘How lucky am I?’ or something equally sappy. She doesn’t frown like she finds Viv’s statement confusing. 

“Yes, Beth. I love you,” she says worriedly. “I’m in love with you.”

Beth stares at her in open shock. 

“Beth,” she says more urgently. “Lieverd - do you know who I am?” 

Beth blinks, then shakes her head back and forth in tiny motions. 

“I’m-” Viv chokes. “I’m Viv,” she says desperately. “Vivianne. I’m your– we’re together,” she says. “I’m your girlfrien– partner,” she corrects. “You call me your partner.” 

Beth looks at her for a long moment. “Mine?” She asks, brow still scrunched up like she’s doing a particularly hard maths equation.

“Yeah,” Viv nods, blinking away tears. “I’m yours, lief. I’m your partner.” 

Beth looks slightly terrified, eyes going as wide as saucers. 

“It’s okay,” Viv sniffs, wiping roughly at her tears so she doesn’t scare her more. “It’s alright–”

Beth reaches a hand out, touching Viv’s face gently. Her fingertips rest on Viv’s cheek and she traces them across her skin, her touch feather-light. “ Whoa ,” she mutters. 

Viv catches her hand, holding it against her face. She doesn’t know what to do, or what to say. All she can do is watch as a few different emotions flick across Beth’s face so quickly she can’t identify them before they’re gone. 

“Pretty,” Beth mumbles. “Mine?” 

Viv nods. “Yours.” 

“Wow,” Beth whispers again. She stares at Viv for a while longer, then seems to notice she’s been crying, because she touches a teartrack. Her brow scrunches. “Sad,” she mutters. 

Viv shakes her head. “I’m okay–”

“Sad,” Beth interrupts more forcefully. Then she raises her eyebrows, like it’s a question, even if it hadn’t sounded like one. 

Viv nods slightly. “Yeah. I’m a little sad–”

“S’ok,” Beth mumbles. “S’ok. ‘l fix’t.” 

Viv coughs a little in surprise. “It’s alright, liefje. I’m okay. You’re just a little confused, right now. You don’t have to–”

“Fix it,” she says seriously, eyes falling shut as she speaks. Her head lolls a bit, but she manages to blink them open again. “Swear.” 

Viv sends her a little smile, a few tears dripping down her face. “Okay, baby. We’ll fix it. It’s okay.” 

“Fx’t,” she says. Then she falls asleep with a little frown on her face while Viv watches over her worriedly. 

Chapter Text

As the nurse comes in, Viv jumps to ask her. 

“She’s– she’s really confused. She doesn’t recognize me. She doesn’t know who I am. And she’s hardly saying more than a couple of words at a time. Is that- is it normal?” Viv frets. “Is she supposed to be like that? How long before she–”

“It’s too early to tell,” the nurse says gently. “She’s just had an operation. It could be from the anesthesia. It could be medicines. It could be from the trauma to her head. It’s too soon to know. We’ll just have to wait and see how she does.”

Viv hates that answer more than she’s hated just about anything else in her life, but she nods anyway, looking back at Beth. She lifts her hand, holding it between both of hers and presses her lips to Beth’s knuckles, and waits. 

Eventually, she lays her head down, finding it nearly unbearable to stare at Beth any longer. Looking at the monitor and all the wires and tubes Beth is connected to is agonizing as well, so she puts her forehead on the blankets and closes her eyes. She takes a few slow, deep breaths, clasping her hands behind her head in some effort to quell the panic rising up in her chest. She does that for what feels like hours, matching her breath to the beeping of Beth's monitor, waiting for her to wake up again. 

After a while, Viv hears the door open behind her. She hears footsteps, too, and the soft click of the latch, but she ignores it. She can’t speak to anyone right now. Maybe if she stays still enough, they’ll leave her be. 

“How are you feeling?” The nurse asks over her shoulder. She’s speaking slowly, softly, like she’s trying to wake her as gently as possible.

Viv doesn’t move, keeps her breathing in an even three-beeps-in, five-beeps-out, praying they’ll give up.  

“M’okay. Head hurts.”

Viv's heart thuds painfully in her ribcage, and she freezes, listening. 

“You’ve had an operation,” she explains, in that same patient tone.

“I had surgery?” Beth asks. Viv feels her shift, then she hisses.

“Don’t touch,” the nurse admonishes her gently. “They’ve had to drill a few holes. It’ll be sore for a while.”

“Drill?” Beth echoes. 

“You were bleeding inside your head,” the nurse explains. “They had to fix that. And the only way to get in there is through your bones. Through your skull.” 

“Jesus,” Beth mutters. 

“It sounds worse than it is,” she says gently. “And you’re looking very well, all things considered.” 

Beth makes a noncommittal noise. 

“How are you feeling? Confused at all?”

Beth considers for a moment. “Foggy,” she murmurs. 

“Do you recognize me?” The nurse asks. 

Beth must shake her head, because she responds kindly. “That’s alright. We only met a couple of hours ago, after your operation,” she explains. “What about her?” She asks. Viv assumes she gestures at her, where she’s pretending to sleep, her head pillowed on the hospital bed by Beth’s thigh. 

“Her?” Beth asks. 

Viv stiffens, bracing herself. 

“Mhm,” the nurse hums, nodding. “Do you know who that is?”

Viv feels Beth shift, but she can’t tell if she’s nodded ‘yes’ or shaken her head ‘no’. 

“Who is she?” The nurse prompts. “How do you know her?” 

“Viv,” Beth says softly. “We played football together.” 

Viv’s breath catches in her throat. Her stomach spasms for a moment, and she has to fight not to let it show on her face. Beth– she’s missing three years, at least, if she doesn’t know Viv is her girlfriend. She might still think she’s with Daan–

A hand touches her head softly, running through her hair. It feels like a punishment. 

“I’m not sure you knew who she was, when you were first awake,” the nurse continues. Her voice is even, patient. Slow enough that it sets Viv’s teeth on edge, the way her pace drags out the conversation. 

“Really?” 

“Mm,” the nurse hums. “She was a bit worried that you didn’t remember. She’ll be happy you’re less confused, now, I’m sure.”

Beth shifts, the sheets rustling by Viv’s head. “Viv,” she says softly. Then more urgently, “Vivianne.” 

Viv raises her head, looking at Beth warily. 

“Hi,” Beth says softly, smoothing Viv’s hair back. 

“Hi,” she echoes. 

“I didn’t know you?” She asks.

Viv shakes her head, her fingers curling in the blankets. She doesn’t quite manage to make a sound, or force any words out of her mouth, which feels like it’s glued shut. 

“Sorry,” Beth says, reaching for Viv’s hand to brush their fingers. 

Viv nods, swallowing silently. “That’s alright,” she says, managing to keep her voice relatively even. 

Beth frowns, puzzling out the look on Viv’s face. “You okay?” 

She nods, sitting back in her chair. It hurts to have Beth touch her this way. Casually, when she doesn’t know what it means to Viv. “Yeah,” she manages, forcing a smile. “I just– I was worried.”

Beth blinks slowly. “Mm,” she hums tiredly. “Sorry, Viv.”

“That’s okay, Beth.”

Her tone is odd enough that Beth’s eyes flick open, her frown deepening at Viv’s formality. “You don’t have to sit there,” she mumbles. “You can come lay on me.”

Viv purses her lips. “I’m okay,” she says. “Sorry, for– I guess I got tired,” she says lamely.

Beth chuckles a little. “I don’t mind.” 

She offers a tight smile. “Right.”

“Viv,” she says, tilting her head. “Come here,” she beckons, flipping her hand over.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay,” she croaks, then clears her throat. “I’m okay here, I mean. Uhm–”

Beth frowns. “Come here.”

Viv shakes her head again, biting her lip as she turns sharply away from Beth, trying to quell the tears in her eyes. She pushes her chair back, the metal scraping across the floor. “I, uh– I need a second–”

“Vivi,” Beth says, “Don’t go.”

It’s the Vivi that breaks her - tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks. She bites her lip hard, wiping furiously at her face. “Sorry,” she sobs, trying to pull herself together. “Sorry, I know you don’t– this is probably so confusing–”

Beth just waits, still reaching for her. “Vivi–”

“Sorry– I don’t know how much you remember, or–” she sniffs, wiping her face. “Uhm–”

“What?”

“Beth,” she says, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She takes another, biting down hard on her lip before she speaks. “Beth - we, uhm– we’re together,” she whispers, staring at her hands in her lap. 

“Mhm,” she hears Beth hum.

“We have been for a while,” she says tentatively, still unable to look at her. She doesn’t think she can bear seeing the way Beth will react when she finally understands. “We've almost been together for three years. You and Daan–”

“Viv,” Beth interrupts, scrunching up her face. “I know who you are.”

Viv nods warily. “No, I know,” she says gently. “It’s just that we’re not teammates like you remember–”

“I know–”

“I’m your partner, and I know that’s–”

Beth frowns in frustration, wincing a bit as the stitches pull. “Viv, I– I’m sorry I–”

“That’s okay–”

“Hush,” Beth huffs. “I know you. I remember you.”

Viv nods along, at least attempting to keep her expression encouraging. 

Beth sighs again, thinks for a minute, then reaches for Viv's hand, squeezing her fingers. “Vivi, come on. Believe me. I know you.”

“I do believe you,” Viv says gently.

“No,” she says without hesitation, “you don’t.”

Viv winces, trying to smooth her face into something less anxious. It's not fair to be putting all this on Beth, so soon after she's woken up-

Beth closes her eyes, brow furrowed in thought. Her head aches and she’s still fuzzy, but– “I swear, liefie–”

Viv's mind skitters to a halt, her plan about how to best explain this to her stuck, halfway between her head and her mouth. “What?”

Beth opens her eyes to blink at her dazedly. “Hm?”

“What did you just call me?” Viv asks, her voice barely coming out louder than a whisper. “Just now, what’d you–”

Beth frowns, thinking. It takes her a long moment to find the word. “Liefie?” She repeats. “That’s what I call you,” She says slowly, now doubting herself a bit. “ Liefje sounds silly–”

Her sentence is interrupted by a choking, gasping sob as Viv dives for her. She stays low, careful to avoid her head, pressing her face into Beth’s stomach, her arms wrapping tight around her waist. She’s muttering to herself, so softly that Beth can’t make it out, but she can hear her name in there intermittently. 

She hesitates, her arms floating in the air above Viv as she looks down at her in surprise. “That’s right, isn’t it?” She asks, still feeling a bit uncertain. “Liefie?”

She nods as she wraps her arms around Beth’s middle, clawing her fingers in her hospital gown. She shakes and lurches, her back rising and falling in quick bursts with her sobbing.

“Oh good,” Beth mumbles, resting her hands on Viv’s head, stroking through her hair gently. “Was worried for a minute.”

Chapter Text

Viv doesn’t stop crying. At some point the nurse leaves, then comes back again, then leaves. Beth keeps stroking her hair all the while, laying back in her pillows as Viv lays halfway on top of her against her legs. Eventually, Viv’s breath starts to slow, but she only turns her head slightly to be able to peek at Beth through one eye. She has absolutely no intention of moving anytime soon. 

She only sits up because she feels Beth flinch at the shrill ringing of Viv’s phone in her pocket. 

“Sorry,” she whispers, answering it blindly. “Hello?” 

“Viv,” Gareth says warily. 

Viv goes rigid, clenching her fists in the sheets. Beth frowns at her, reaching for her hand as Viv starts trembling. 

“I just wanted to reach out, and see if there’s anything you need. If there’s anything we can do–”

“No,” Viv growls. “Don’t call me again,” she snaps, and then she hangs up. 

Beth wisely doesn’t ask, just guides Viv to lay down in her lap again. Beth dozes, as does Viv, staying sprawled across Beth’s legs even as her back starts to ache and her legs go numb.

She’s just starting to think about how to get comfortable enough to sleep when the nurse comes back in, knocking quietly. 

“Hi,” she says softly. “How are we going in here?”

“Better,” Beth mumbles. Viv sits up enough to nod her agreement, but still stays leaning forward, holding Beth’s hands. 

“Good,” she smiles. But there’s a tension in it that puts Viv on edge. “Well. I’m afraid it’s time for visitors to head home for the night,” she says, pressing her lips together apologetically, looking at Viv. 

Her heart clenches hard, stuttering in her chest. “What?”

“I’m afraid visiting hours end at eight in the Intensive Care ward,” she explains. 

Viv glances at her phone. “But it’s–”

“I know,” the nurse says softly. “We were able to give you a bit extra time since she only just got out of surgery. But I’m afraid you aren’t allowed to stay in the ward overnight.”

Viv blanches, glancing desperately at Beth. “But–”

“Hospital policy, I’m afraid. I really would let you stay, if I could. But it’s not up to me.”

“But I–”

“You can come back at eight,” she reports easily. 

Viv gapes at her. “That’s twelve hours.”

“I know,” she says apologetically. “It feels like a long time. But it gives patients and families time to rest, and time for the doctors to do their rounds in the morning.”

“I’m just supposed to leave her here?” Viv says, eyes wide like she just can’t believe it. “By herself? Alone?”

“She’ll be very well cared for,” the nurse assures her. “And we’ll call you if anything urgent happens that you should come in for. But I don’t expect any of that to happen. Just a few hours of good rest, and then you can come right back.”

Viv feels like she can’t breathe. She stares at the nurse, then turns to Beth, mouth open. She’s already reaching for her. 

“She can’t stay?” Beth asks. 

The nurse winces. “I’m afraid not.”

“Beth–”

“It’s okay,” she says gently, holding Viv’s hand. “It’s alright. I’ll be fine.”

“Beth, I–”

“It’s alright–”

“I can walk you out,” the nurse offers kindly. “If that would help. Is there someone that can come get you? Take you home?”

Viv swallows, trying to get a hold of her breathing. “I– the girls were here before,” she says, glancing at Beth. “I don’t know if–”

“Why don’t you give them a call,” the nurse says. “If they’re here, have them come up to get you, to make it a bit easier.”

Viv manages to call Lotte, though she’s not entirely sure what she says. She must be speaking Dutch, based on the nurse’s confused smile and the fact that Beth isn’t trying to take the phone from her. When she hangs up, she looks at the woman in the doorway, trying not to cry.

“She’s, uh– she’s going to come up.”

“Okay,” she nods. “I’ll give you a minute to say goodnight, then I’ll take you to the lifts. I’ll be just outside.”

Viv nods, turning her attention entirely on Beth as she takes her leave. “I don’t want to go home,” she whispers, the line between her brows appearing as she scrunches her face.

“I know,” she says. 

Viv shakes her head. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Beth says again. “But it’s okay..”

Viv nods, her eyes wet with tears. 

“Kiss,” Beth says, turning her head. “Before you go.”

Viv leans over, balancing on the rails of Beth’s hospital bed. She moves towards her slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, then another to her temple - the left, not the right. 

“Night, baby,” Beth murmurs, her eyes already drifting shut. 

“I’ll be here first thing,” Viv promises, bringing Beth’s fingers to her lips before she sets her hand back down and moves for the door. 

The nurse is waiting outside, like she promised, and offers her a soft smile. She guides her down the hall to the entrance, opening a door for Viv. Lotte’s there, on the other side. She wraps Viv in a hug, letting her stutter through a few deep breaths with her forehead pressed against her shoulder. She flinches when the door to the ward clicks shut behind them, the nurse disappearing behind it. 

Lotte lets her stand like that for a while, until Viv’s grip loosens. Then she steps back, rubbing a gentle hand over Viv’s shoulders. “Come on, zus ,” she says gently. “Let’s get you home.” 

Chapter Text

At the house, it takes Lotte an hour and a lot of murmuring in Dutch to get Viv to eat something and shower. And once she does, and she’s standing at the end of the bed, still wrapped in her towel, she bursts into tears, staring at the way the sheets are thrown back from Beth getting out of bed that morning. 

“Viv?” Steph’s voice calls softly. “I’ve got someone who wants to see you,” she says, opening the door as Myle goes bursting inside, jumping at Viv’s legs excitedly. Calvin follows, licking gently at her knees.

Steph hesitates briefly, taking in the scene before her, then takes a few decisive steps forward, wrapping Viv in a tight hug. Myle leaps onto the bed, standing at the foot of the mattress to insistently nudge her nose against Viv’s hip while she clings to Steph with one hand and her towel with the other. Steph finds herself sniffling, too, clinging to Viv just as hard as Viv is clinging to her. 

When Viv pulls back, they both wipe their eyes, Steph managing a tight smile. “Okay,” she says, blowing out a long breath. “Let’s get you some clothes, yeah? Then bed.”

She helps pull something for Viv to wear out of Beth’s drawers, politely turning her back to let Viv get dressed in privacy. Then she turns and clears her throat, drawing Viv’s attention from where she’s perched on the edge of the bed, holding onto Myle limply. 

“Um, Viv?” She ventures. “Is she– did she wake up?” 

Viv looks up, staring blankly at her for a moment. 

“Beth,” she explains. “Did she wake up while you were there?”

Realisation dawns across Viv’s face and she startles. “She’s okay,” she says hoarsely, clearing her throat. “Sorry, I should have told you sooner. She’s okay. She’s Beth. And she’s allowed more visitors than just me tomorrow.”

Steph bites her lip and nods, face contorting as she tries not to cry. She plops down on the bed at Viv’s side, their knees banging together. 

“Sorry,” Viv says again, squeezing Steph’s hand. “You’re her best friend, I should have–”

Steph shakes her head. “It’s okay,” she says tearfully. 

Viv looks at her, brow furrowing. “Fuck,” she curses, searching wildly for her phone. “Fuck, I need to tell her dad– I never called him–”

“He’s here,” she says gently. “He and Ben got here while you were in the shower.”

Viv’s head shoots up, her eyes wide. “They’re here?”

Steph nods. “In the living room.”

Viv’s on her feet, stumbling for the door before Steph can get any more words out. She doesn’t even say anything as she goes barrelling into the den. She just scans the room for them, then makes a beeline for Rich. He just manages to stand, catching her at the same moment she buries herself against him. 

“She’s okay,” she says, squeezing him. “She’s okay. She’s Beth.”

She hears Ben’s shuddering exhale, and feels the way Rich relaxes against her. “Yeah?” He asks.

She nods, her face still tucked against his shoulder. “She was confused, at first. Right after surgery. But she slept a bit and when she woke up– she was Beth by the time she made me leave. Just tired.”

He blows out a breath she didn’t realise he was holding. “That’s good,” he says, voice a bit strangled. “That’s good.”

“I’m so sorry,” Viv says, mumbling into his shirt. “I should have called, or something. I– can’t believe I didn’t–

“It’s okay, Viv,” Beth’s dad says, drawing back just enough to look her in the face. “It’s hard to think about anything except what’s right in front of you in the hospital,” he says knowingly. “And if I really needed to, I would have called you. But the doctors had already spoken to me and told me you were there.”

“But I should have–”

“It’s okay,” he says again, cupping her face with one warm hand. “I’d rather you be worrying about her than about us.”

“But you didn’t know–”

“It’s alright. I know now. And we’ll go see her in the morning together, first thing.”

Viv nods, letting Rich pull her into another hug. It assuages some of her guilt, but not all of it. It still sits in her stomach like a stone, dragging her down. 

“Are you okay? How are you holding up?” He asks. 

“Okay,” she answers. “The girls have been helping.”

He nods, glancing around to offer soft smiles to Lotte, Leah, and Steph. 

“Viv,” Lotte says gently. “We can go, if you–”

“No,” she says quickly, shaking her head. “No, don’t go.” 

“I think you three should stay with Viv in her room,” Rich says knowingly. “I think she’d appreciate the company.”

They glance at Viv. “Is that what you want, Viv?” Steph asks hesitantly.

She’s nodding before she really processes it. “Please. I don’t– I don’t want to be alone.”

Chapter Text

In the morning, Viv extricates herself carefully from the pile of bodies occupying her bed, crawling awkwardly out from under Leah’s sprawled arm. It’s too early - six thirty - but she’s anxious and there’s a steady buzzing under her skin that’s making it impossible to sleep or lie still. 

Rich is already awake, in the ktichen, preparing a couple of mugs of coffee. Without a word, he pulls another down for Viv and slides it across the counter to her. Ben appears from the sofa, taking the other. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says softly. “Kill some time before we can visit.” 

Viv nods, slipping on her shoes and shuffling along silently beside him and Ben with Myle sprinting along with them as they walk along the grass outside. No one speaks. They just walk side-by-side, each of their gazes fixed to the ground in front of them. Rich frowns. Ben picks his fingers. Viv chews her lip. But it’s a little easier, walking here next to them. Just a little. 

Eventually, just as Viv has finished her coffee and started feeling more awake, they turn around. When they get inside, the rest of the girls are awake, sitting on the sofa, curled up with their own mugs. 

“Hey,” Viv says. “We’re, uh- we’re gonna go see her,” she says, gesturing at herself and Ben and Rich. 

Steph nods. “I, uh– I texted Jen last night,” she says. “She’s flying in right now. She should get here around one,” she says. “We’re going to pick her up and come visit from there, I think, if that’s okay?” 

Viv nods. “We may need to switch out, so just text me when you’re close. That way we can have time to get lunch, or something.” 

The girls each give her a hug goodbye before she follows Beth’s family out to the car, sitting in the passenger seat while Ben climbs into the back. It’s a quiet ride there, and then Viv leads the way up to Beth’s room. She’s oddly nervous, for reasons she doesn’t completely understand, but Rich seems to notice, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder again as she walks through the door. 

Beth’s asleep when they enter, and Viv winces as she hears Ben’s and Rich’s breath catch in their throats at the sight of her. She’d forgotten they didn’t know about the shaved hair and drain in her head. 

“Lieverd?” She says softly. She doesn’t want to scare her, and Beth’s a notoriously light sleeper, so it’s fairly likely she will. 

Beth doesn’t move, even when Viv grabs her hand and rubs her thumb across it. 

“Beth,” she whispers more urgently, frowning a little. 

Rich walks to the end of the bed, reaching for her ankle. He squeezes it a few times, shaking her foot back and forth. “Morning, baby girl,” he says, voice still quiet but much louder than Viv’s. 

Beth scrunches her face, tugging her foot back. 

“Time to wake up now, love,” he says, returning his hand to her shin. 

“Mm-mm,” Beth groans, squeezing her eyes shut. “Tired.” 

Rich laughs softly. “I know you are, sweetheart. But Ben and I are here and we’d like to check if you're alright, if you don’t mind.” 

Beth frowns, but blinks her eyes open slowly, a little confusion crossing her features. “Dad? Ben?” 

“Yep,” Ben answers. “How you feeling?” 

Beth blinks sleepily, squinting a little in the light. “Hungover,” she says with a groan. “Ow–” 

Viv grabs her hands as Beth goes to reach for her head. “You’re in hospital, lieverd. You had an accident in your match yesterday, remember? They had to do an operation on your head. To fix the bleeding.” 

Beth frowns, blinking. “What?” 

Viv’s heart skips a few beats inside her chest. “Lief? Do you know who we are?” 

Beth looks at her like she’s lost her mind. “What?” She asks. 

Viv goes a bit green, taking her hand off Beth’s. “Do you know–”

“She knows who we are,” Rich says gently, resting his hands on Viv’s shoulders. The weight settles her slightly, forcing her to relax from her panicked stance. “She’s just groggy from waking up. This is how she was as a teenager, when she was a heavier sleeper. Took her a while to know what was going on.”

“Are you sure?” Viv frets. “This is what she was like yesterday–”

“Stop talking about me,” Beth grumbles. “M’right here.”

“Lief,” Viv says anxiously. “Can you just– can you just tell me if you know who we are, please?”

Beth gives her that same look again, frowning at her like Viv is the one with a head injury. 

“Please, Beth,” Viv begs. 

She purses her lips unhappily, still squinting a bit suspiciously at Viv, but raises a finger and points at them individually. “Vivi. Dad. Ben,” she lists. 

“Do you remember anything from yesterday?” Rich asks. 

Beth scowls, thinking. “Uhm… sort of. I think. Makes my head hurt,” she huffs, closing her eyes. “Can’t think too hard.” 

Viv frowns, and Rich squeezes her shoulders again. “Probably just the concussion, love. That’s alright.”

“Concussion?” Beth questions, reaching to rub at her head where it aches and throbs again, right by her temple. Viv catches her hand again, holding it tightly. 

“Don’t touch, baby. It’s sore.” 

Beth frowns, then feels the tug as her skin stretches and pulls at the stitches. “Oh. Surgery,” she says, closing her eyes again. “Right.” 

Viv brings Beth’s hand to her lips, kissing her knuckles gently. Beth quirks a soft smile, peeking one eye open before she closes them again. The light hurts her eyes, so she keeps them closed, talking quietly and listening to her Dad and Ben and Viv chat. Eventually, she drifts off again, her fingers still tangled with Viv’s.

She spends a lot of time sleeping. Even when the girls come to see her and she grins at the sight of Jen and Steph, she falls asleep quickly, wincing quietly at the volume of their voices and the lights of the room after a short time. Viv asks, and apparently, that could be true for a very long while. 

In the afternoon, though, Beth asks when she can go home, and get back to training. 

The doctors frown at her. “You’ll be here for at least a few more days,” they say seriously. “But you won’t be allowed to train for quite some time.”

“How long?” Beth asks, sighing. 

“Strenuous exercise you should avoid for several months, at least.”

Beth frowns. “What about football?” 

One of the doctors frowns at her. “I wouldn’t recommend going back to playing football,” he says seriously.

Beth opens her eyes to stare at him. “But I’m a footballer,” she says.

He frowns. “I really don’t think you can return to sport after an injury like this.” 

“Why not?” Beth asks, a bit sharply.

“Far too high of a risk of further head trauma,” he says with a frown. 

Beth casts him a doubtful sort of look - one that asks if he’s qualified to be making this sort of statement. 

“You have fractures in your skull,” he says plainly, blinking at her like she’s gone insane. “And holes in your head, which we’ll need to repair at some point. If you hit your head again, you may not survive it.” 

Viv goes rigid, but Beth just frowns. “Are you sure?” 

He sighs, like he’d seen this coming. “Yes, I–” he cuts off, pressing his lips together. “Why don’t I ask the sports neurologist to come see you,” he offers. “That might be better.”

Chapter Text

It’s not until later in the evening that the sports neurologist comes by. He’s an athletic looking man in his forties or fifties, and he sits in the chair previously occupied by Viv when he comes in. She’s sitting in bed with Beth, letting her sleep against her shoulder while Ben and Rich run out to get them some dinner. She shifts awkwardly when he comes in, glancing at Beth to try to figure out how to extricate herself without disturbing her.

“It’s fine,” he says gently, “You can stay there.”

Viv nods her thanks, but she’s still a bit confused, looking at him a little warily. She doesn’t actually know who this man is, though his coat makes it obvious he’s one of the doctors. 

“Dr. Reeves,” he says, holding a hand out for Viv to shake. “I’m the specialist for sport-related brain injuries.” 

She nods, swallowing nervously. No one’s ever actually said it that way, exactly. A brain injury, though she knows that’s what Beth has. 

“Viv,” she says quietly. “I’m her partner. Should I–”

“Go ahead and wake her up, if you would,” he says with a kind smile. “Then we’ll talk.” 

He looks away, scrolling through what looks like a medical record on his phone, which Viv assumes is Beth’s, giving them a bit of privacy while Viv turns to the girl asleep in her arms. 

“Beth,” she murmurs, squeezing her shoulder lightly. “Lieverd, wake up. A doctor’s here to talk to you.”

“Mmmm,” she groans, turning into Viv further. “Five minutes.”

“He’s here now, baby,” she says a little louder. “Time to wake up.”

Beth frowns unhappily, blinking up at Viv with a little scowl. “I was sleepin’.” 

“I know you were,” Viv says fondly, tucking her hair back, carefully avoiding the drain. “But the neurologist is here. The one they mentioned earlier.”

Beth’s frown deepens. “Who?” 

“I’m the sports specialist,” he says, making his presence known. “I was told you were concerned about the possibility of playing football again? I understand you’re a professional.”

Beth jolts a little, turning to look at him in surprise. “Oh, uhm,” she says, shifting to sit a bit more properly and a little less on Viv. “Yeah. Yes, I am.” 

“Euros Golden Boot winner, I believe,” he says, sticking his hand out. “Dr. Reeves.”

“Beth,” she answers after a beat, shaking his hand. She frowns, like there’s some thought that’s popped into her head that she can’t quite catch. 

“I watched the Euros,” he fills in. “You were brilliant in that tournament. Always wanted to say that to you face-to-face, though I’m sorry it’s in these circumstances,” he says easily, sitting back in his chair as he releases Beth’s hand. 

“Thanks,” Beth says. “Uhm… nice to meet you, too.” 

He smiles. “Nice to meet you, Beth. Now, I’ve looked at your records, I know a fair amount about what’s going on. But why don’t you tell me about your concerns.”

“Sure,” she says, glancing at Viv briefly. “Uhm…”

“The other doctor,” Viv fills in. “He mentioned that he wouldn’t recommend going back to football.”

“But I’m a footballer ,” Beth adds meaningfully. 

He nods, pressing his lips together seriously. “Would you mind if I ask you a few questions, Beth?” 

“Sure.”

“Alright. What do you enjoy doing, outside of football?” He asks, tilting his head at her.

She blinks at him, a bit confused. “Oh, uhm… I mean…” she glances at Viv. “We’ve got a dog. Uhm–”

“She spends a lot of time with friends,” Viv cuts in. “And family, when she can see them. Usually walks or coffee or something. Football, obviously.” 

He smiles, nodding along. “And have you ever had a concussion before this injury. Beth?”

Beth bobs her head. “Yeah, a few, I think.” 

He smiles knowingly. “I do. And what’s your plan for after football, Beth? Any thoughts on that yet?”

“Uh–” She hesitates, mind whirring. It doesn’t catch on anything, though Beth knows there’s something–

“You’d been talking about coaching,” Viv says gently to Beth. “We’re doing our badges together. And we were working with some of the Arsenal academy girls–”

“Oh, yeah,” Beth nods. “That’s fun. I like that.”

He nods again, letting that statement sit for a moment. “My understanding is that you would like to return to football, preferably as soon as possible. Is that correct?”

Viv fights the urge to squeeze Beth tightly, instead shifting a little closer against her in the bed. 

She nods, jolting a little as she drops her chin. “Yeah, I mean– I’m a footballer,” she says, like it should be obvious. 

“Talk to me about what you remember from the injury, and what you understand about what’s happened here in the hospital,” Dr. Reeves requests. 

Beth squints, blinking a few times as she tries to remember. “Uhm… nothing, really? I was at the match, and then– you were here?” She guesses, turning to Viv, blinking a few times before turning more slowly back to look at the doctor. “It’s hard to think. S’all jumbled,” she mumbles. “Uhm– Vivi was upset. And then today, I think… was Dad here? And Jen, maybe?” 

Viv nods. “Yeah, lieverd. Your Dad and Ben were here. And Steph came with Jen. Leah and Lotte stopped by, too. Remember?”

Beth nods, but there’s a slight hesitance in it, a bit of uncertainty behind her eyes. 

“And what do you understand about your injury?” He pushes.

Beth squints further, bringing her hand up to rub at her temple before Viv catches her wrist, keeping her from touching the incisions. “Right, surgery. Forgot,” she mutters. “Uhm. I had surgery,” she says resolutely. 

“What for?” 

“Uh– there’s holes in there,” she fills in with an uncertain frown. 

“There are,” he agrees, looking at her steadily, even as she narrows her eyes, leaning more heavily back against Viv’s arm. He shifts, leaning forward to flick out the light above them, plunging the room into relative darkness. “Go ahead and close your eyes, Beth. I’ll speak softly.”

“I’m fine–”

“It’ll help your head,” he says gently, then waits for her to close her eyes and settle in against Viv, who’s got her gaze fixed on the doctor, frowning at him with pursed lips. “My concern, Beth, is that this isn’t a simple concussion. Your brain suffered a significant trauma. Enough to fracture your skull and tear open one of the blood vessels. The hit was hard enough to knock you unconscious for quite some time, as well. And after that, there was enough blood collecting in your head to put pressure on your brain, causing a seizure, and necessitating surgery to relieve it, with the holes they drilled. Those are not insignificant stresses to the brain. Luckily, it seems you’ve come out the other side without any deficits - you can still feel and move everything as you should,” he explains, when both of them frown. “But your head is not exactly as it was. It’s irritable. You’ll get headaches more easily. It’s harder to think. Harder to remember things. Connections in your brain were damaged, and they may or may not recover fully. That’s something we’ll have to see, with time. The concern is not that you wouldn’t know how to play football anymore. The concern is that each time you take a blow to the head - with a ball, with an elbow or a knee or a fall, or another player’s head, you risk more damage. And for you, whose brain has already been through so much, we just don’t know when it becomes too much. It’s possible that would never happen, it’s possible another hit could be the one that breaks the camel’s back. It’s hard to know.”

“Okay,” she whispers, frowning through closed eyes. 

“I think you need to let yourself heal, and really consider what sort of life you want, and whether or not playing football is worth risking that. I can’t promise you this won’t happen again, if you play. And I can’t promise that another concussion won’t leave you with permanent damage, or that you won’t bleed again.”

“So I can’t play?” She asks, voice cracking a little. 

He presses his lips together. “In my opinion, it would be extremely risky to continue to play a sport with such a high incidence of head injury in someone whose brain has suffered such trauma as yours. It’s a miracle you’ve come out the other side of this relatively unscathed, to be honest. I would not recommend doing anything that may cause further injury.” 

Beth doesn’t say anything else. She just sits stiffly against Viv with her eyes closed, and she doesn’t move as Viv shakes his hand and thanks him for coming. She doesn’t say anything when she hears him leave, either. She just sits there, arms crossed over her chest, the little furrow between her brows tighter than usual.

“Lief?” Viv whispers.

“My head hurts,” Beth says tightly, her lip wobbling slightly. 

“Okay, baby,” she answers. “I’ll call the nurse.”

Chapter Text

The second full day in the hospital, Beth is in a foul mood from the moment she wakes up. 

The noises in the hospital had kept her up all night, and she’s exhausted even though she slept practically all day yesterday. There’s always someone chattering, and every time she’s about to fall asleep, someone comes barging in - she’s about ready to strangle the nurse the third time he comes to check on her overnight. 

So when Viv wakes her up in the morning, she’s practically raging. 

“Won’t anyone let me fucking sleep ?” She snaps, wincing as the volume sends a stabbing sensation through her head. She reaches up to hold the source of the pain, but Viv grabs her hand before she can touch.

“Don’t–”

“Get off , Viv,” she snaps, though she had definitely forgotten about the incisions and had been about to touch them. Again . 

Viv releases her wrist, standing up a little from where she’d been leaning over her, ready to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Okay,” she says warily, drawing back to glance at Rich and Ben. “Would you like us to–”

“I’d like to be left alone ,” she bites out nastily, glaring through narrowed eyes. 

Viv just stares, uncertain. Beth’s never really been this moody with her, and she finds she doesn’t really know how to deal with it. She’s been irritable, sure, but she’d always been able to tell Viv she needed some space, at least. 

“We’ll give you some time then, sweetheart,” Rich says, a little bit of warning in his tone. “We’ll come back a little later.”

Beth huffs, but doesn’t say anything, keeping her eyes closed as they shuffle out the door. 

She can’t go back to sleep, though. Even after they leave, the beeps in the hall and the sound of people moving about keep her awake. And she feels the curl of guilt in her chest when she remembers how uncertain Viv had sounded, the way she’d been looking at her when she’d cut a glare in her direction. But she huffs and covers her head under the blankets anyway, trying to force it until the door opens again a while later, and someone else comes in, taking away her breakfast tray this time. 

Viv, Ben, and her dad shuffle in slightly after that, likely aware that Beth had already been awoken by someone else, somehow. She does her best not to shout at them, but the result is several one-word answers and irritable glaring in the corners of the room. Her head aches, a few stabbing pains shooting through her temple as they talk, so reaches for her head again, only for Viv to catch her wrist. 

“Stop it!” She snaps, slapping at her hand. 

Viv withdraws it sharply, like she’s been burned. “I’m just –”

“It’s my head, Viv!”

Viv blinks. “Sorry,” she says warily. “I just… you keep forgetting–”

“No I don’t ,” Beth sneers. “Stop controlling me!” 

Viv clearly makes an effort to not take it personally, nodding slightly. “Sorry,” she murmurs, glancing away. 

“Yeah,” Beth snarls. “Sure you are.” 

Viv’s shoulders curl in on themselves, and Ben stiffens beside her, cutting a disbelieving look at Beth. 

“What the hell , Beth,” he demands, feeling a bit of indignant rage bubble up on Viv’s behalf. 

Beth scoffs, but Viv turns to Ben, shaking her head. “It’s fine. She doesn’t mean it.” 

“I do mean it,” she says nastily. “You’re being controlling , Viv–”

“Bethany,” Rich cuts in, his voice low. “That’s enough. ” 

“Oh, sure,” she snaps. “Take her side!” 

Viv winces, picking at her nails anxiously as Ben glances at his dad, who stares back at Beth steadily, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. 

“Ben,” Rich says calmly. “Take Viv outside.”

“It’s fine–” Viv tries again, but Rich cuts her off, still looking at Beth. 

“It’s not. Now step out, please,” he says, no room for argument. “I need to have a talk with Beth.” 

Viv hesitates, glancing between the three of them warily. 

Rich never looks away from Beth, even as she crosses her arms and glares at him. “Ben. Now.” 

That spurs him into action, and he pushes up out of his chair, cutting another glance at Beth before he tugs on Viv’s arm, pulling her to her feet before giving her a nudge toward the door with a gentle hand on her back. “Come on. We don’t want to be here for this.” 

Rich doesn’t speak until he hears the door close, then waits another thirty or so seconds until he’s sure Ben and Viv are out of earshot. He looks at Beth neutrally, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“Care to explain why you’re treating her like that?” He asks calmly.

Beth sneers. “No.”

“That wasn’t a request, Bethany,” he replies. “Start talking. Now.” 

“Or what?” She asks mockingly. 

Rich shakes his head, breathing out slowly through his nose. But he doesn’t say anything, just levels her with his most disappointed gaze as he waits. 

Ten seconds pass.

Twenty. 

Thirty. 

Beth makes it to forty-five before she cracks.

“She keeps grabbing me !” She rages, wincing as her head throbs again. She reaches for it, jerking back when she makes contact with her incisions, making the throbbing worse as she pokes it harder than she intends. She puts her palm to it, holding pressure as she hisses. “ Ow. Jesus.” 

Rich just looks at her, unimpressed. 

“What?” She snaps. 

“Just waiting,” he answers mildly. “You were saying?” 

“It’s my head!” She snarls, squeezing her eyes shut as the pounding gets worse. 

“It is,” he says, quieter this time. “But you keep reaching for it, and every time you do, you make your head hurt worse.”

“No I don’t–”

“You did it about five times yesterday before she started catching you, and about three later on, when you got angry with her about it.”

“No I didn’t,” she says moodily.

Her dad sighs again, reaching out to pull her hand away from her head, where she’s been shoving her palm for the last few moments. The throbbing immediately lessens and she frowns, staring at her hand like it’s a puzzle she can’t quite figure out. 

He sends her a knowing look, releasing his grip. “You did, Beth. You may not remember, but you did. And this happens every single time.”

“What does?” She asks grumpily.

“You holding your head and making it worse until someone stops you,” he says. “She’s just trying to help.” 

“I don’t need her help!” 

Rich presses his lips together. “You’d rather feel that, then? Every time you reach for your head?” He says, nodding knowingly at her temple where it throbs.

“I’d rather not be babied ,” she snaps.

“That’s not what she’s doing, Beth,” he says patiently. “I understand that it feels that way to you. But she’s saving you pain, sweetheart. She’s helping you. And you’re being nasty to her about it.”

Beth doesn’t have an answer to that. Her head throbs again, and she reaches for it on instinct, only just managing to avoid touching it when her dad reaches for her arm. 

He looks at her pityingly, taking her hand in his, squeezing gently. “What’s got you in knots today, love?”

She sighs, defeated, laying back and staring up at the ceiling tiles. “I didn’t sleep! All night, I– with the noises and people. I didn’t sleep.”

He nods. “Hospitals are terrible places to rest.”

Beth hums her agreement. 

“Is any of this about football?” He asks gently, raising an eyebrow.

Beth goes still, cutting her eyes to him. He waits while she panics, until she looses her breath again. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think it might be about football?”

“Probably,” she huffs. “And my head hurts.” 

“I know,” he nods. “That should get better, with time.” 

“Can’t I go home?” She whines. “I just wanna go home.” 

“Not yet, love,” he says, squeezing her fingers fondly. “You’ve still got holes in your head. And a drain in, to boot. They’re going to have to fix that, before you can go.”

Beth stiffens. 

He nods silently, fingers tightening on hers again comfortingly. “It's a simple operation, from what they’ve said.”

“When?” She rasps.

“Day after tomorrow, probably.”

“I didn’t know that,” she says, her voice small. “Nobody told me.” 

Rich scoots closer, holding both of her hands. “Yeah, baby girl. They did.”

Beth swallows hard as her eyes burn. “I forgot.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he says softly, watching as Beth’s brow wrinkles and her lip starts to wobble. He sighs, moving the rail at the side of the bed to slide in next to her, pulling her gently into his side, letting her curl up against him as she sobs. He waits, rubbing her back, then presses the button for the nurse as her sniffles slow. When she appears, concern crossing her brow at the sight of Beth crying in his arms, he offers a small grimace. “I think we’re going to need something for her head, here in a minute,” he says quietly.

She offers him a knowing look, nodding, and disappears for a few minutes before coming back. She gets Beth to cooperate with a few tests, then pushes some medicine through her IV. 

In Rich’s arms, Beth’s sobbing slows, then stops completely, her breath evening out into long, slow snores as she falls asleep. 

When she wakes up later, it’s not her dad she’s laying against. She’s in the bed, alone, but Viv’s there, reading quietly in her chair. She doesn’t realise she’s awake, at first, so Beth gets a few uninterrupted minutes to study her and note the exhaustion on her face, the poorly concealed worry. She can tell how upset she’s been by the red lines at the corners of her eyes from wiping tears on her sleeves, and by the bit of dried blood on her cuticles from picking at them. 

A few more rustling flips of paper echo around the room before Viv glances up, freezing when she spots Beth’s eyes open, focused on her. She hesitates, shifting nervously in her seat, and Beth’s heart squeezes painfully.

“Vivi,” she murmurs. “You okay, baby?” She slides a hand along the bedding towards her, flipping her palm up in the hopes Viv will tangle their fingers together. 

Viv looks up, surprised. She frowns at her for a long few moments, thinking, then offers a weak half-smile. “I’m okay.” 

“You sure?” Beth asks, sliding her hand just a bit closer.

Viv stays quiet, pinching her lips together. She doesn’t reach for her.

“Viv?”

Viv sighs, sitting up further in her chair, folding her book to rub at her own forehead. 

“You have a headache?” Beth says, frowning worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Viv answers. “Just tired.”

“Come lay with me,” she offers, patting the bed beside her. “Have a nap.”

Viv doesn’t move from her place in the chair. She just looks at the bed for a moment, then shakes her head. But she clearly notices the surge of hurt that crosses Beth’s face, and the way she deflates. “I just…don’t want to mess anything up,” she says quietly, offering a tight smile.  

“You could lay here,” Beth offers, patting her legs. 

Viv weighs the idea for much longer than Beth expects, barely concealed frown on her face. But she eventually nods, sliding her chair forward to get closer. 

Beth’s fingers find her hair of their own accord when Viv’s head settles against her thighs, and she starts combing through the strands, scratching her nails lightly over her scalp. “Love you, Vivi,” she murmurs. 

In her lap, Viv nods, just slightly. “I know.”

Chapter Text

When the door opens the next morning, Viv isn’t amongst the group that walks through the door. It’s just Steph and Jen, bringing her a decaf latte and a pastry, since apparently she’s not meant to have caffeine right now. She tries to be her normal, excited self about their presence, but there’s a nagging unsettled feeling in her gut whenever she thinks about the fact that Viv isn’t here. 

The girls try to distract her. Steph talks about Calvin and Myle, and how they’ve been the best of friends. She talks about how Rich is Myle’s new favorite, and how she lays against his chest for hours at a time in the evenings. Jen talks about life in California, about her new girlfriend and how smitten she is with her. 

And Beth listens and nods along, smiling at the appropriate moments. Softly asking the questions she normally would. But she’s more reserved. Quieter. And eventually, Jen presses. 

“Beth,” she says gently. “Are you doing alright? How are you ?”

She smiles, shrugging. “Alright. I’m bored, obviously. But everyone coming to keep me company is nice.”

The girls nod quietly, listening. 

“And Vivi’s been here,” she says, trying to bury her anxiousness. “I think maybe she’s busy today, since she’s not here–”

A short glance passes between Steph and Jen. Just a quick darting of eyes, so subtle Beth would have missed it if she didn’t know them so well. 

“What?” She asks, dread already curling in her gut. “Why’d you– what was that?”

Jen looks ready to pretend everything is normal, but Steph slides forward in her chair, resting a hand on Beth’s shin. She has the sudden, nearly overwhelming urge to kick it off, but she doesn’t, she just sits a bit stiffly instead. 

“Viv wanted to give you some space today,” Steph says gently. “Let some other people visit without her hovering.”

“She doesn't hover ,” Beth says hotly, glaring at her like Steph had been the one to put that idea in Viv’s head.

“I know,” she placates. “But that’s what she said. So she’s home today with the dogs.”

Beth’s eyes burn. “Is she– is she coming later?”

Steph sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t think she’s coming today, chicken.”

As soon as the words leave her lips, Beth’s face falls. She fights it for a moment, but her chin wrinkles and her lips start to shake. She bites them harshly, pinching them together in an effort to control it, but tears start streaking down her face anyway, and her whole body trembles. 

“She’ll come back, Beffy,” Steph says, reaching for her hand. “It’s just today. She’ll come back.”

A sob bursts its way out, echoing loudly in the room as she shakes her head miserably. “No, she won’t!” 

“She will, Beth,” Jen cuts in. “She said so. She just wants to give everyone else time to visit–”

“No, she won’t!” Beth sobs. “She hates me!”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Then why isn’t she here? ” She wails, lifting a hand to her head to protect against the piercing pain of her own voice.

“Because, she wanted to give you space –”

Beth draws her limbs in as Jen and Steph try to comfort her, curling into as much of a ball as she can manage. It’s enough to set off the alarm on her bed that she’s trying to climb out unsupervised, which wails and shrieks. Viv had figured out how to silence it, with all her climbing in and out over the last couple days, but Steph and Jen don’t know what to do, alternating between looking at each other and at Beth, trying to calm her as she presses her hands desperately over her ears, trying to dampen the sound. 

“Off! Turn it off!” She sobs, squeezing her eyes shut against the sound slicing through her brain. She can’t focus with that noise, she can’t think enough to explain what to do. All she can do is stay curled in a ball, eyes shut, ears covered, crying until finally, mercifully it disappears. Though the sound is gone, her pain isn’t. It drives deep, like an ice pick through her head, echoing in awful, reverberating aches between her ears and behind her eyes. It doesn’t let up, not as someone touches her and talks to her. And then the familiar chill of medicine in her arm leaves the world fading away into nothing - just gentle blackness for a few hours. 

There’s still a slight throb when she wakes up, wincing slightly as she opens her eyes. The chairs are occupied by Ben and her Dad, chatting softly with each other, but they go silent the minute she shifts in the bed. 

“Hey, RKid,” Ben says, a little worry obvious in his voice. “How’s the head?” 

“Hurts,” she mumbles, shifting a bit more upright. 

“Steph and Jen traded out with us,” her dad explains, pausing to see if Beth remembers.

She frowns, squinting at him, then has a brief flash of memory from what must have been earlier today - not that she would know that if he hadn’t just told her. “Oh.”

“Figured we should be here when you woke up, since we know how your headaches are,” he continues.

“Okay,” she mumbles, squinting until Ben flicks the light off overhead. “Thanks.”

“The doctor is coming soon, I think,” he offers. “The neurologist.” 

“Okay,” she says again, then lets her eyes drift shut for a while longer. 

The neurologist is the same one she met the other day, with Viv. The specialist. She recognizes his face, though she can’t really place him, until he explains. 

“Dr. Reeves,” he says kindly, shaking Ben and Rich’s hands. Then he takes the empty seat again, patting Beth’s knee. “We met the other day, Beth. I spoke with you and your partner, Viv, I think. Do you remember that?”

“Sort of,” she answers, trying to ignore the surge of emotion at the sound of Viv’s name. 

“How are you doing?” He asks, watching her carefully.

“Head hurts,” she says quietly.

“Mm,” he nods. “That may be true for a while. Is the medication helping?”

“For a bit,” she answers. “But it comes back.”

“Let me see what we’ve got you on, and maybe I can do some adjusting,” he offers. “How else have you been doing? Besides the sore head?” He pushes, when she doesn't say anything.

She shrugs. “Dunno. Tired,” she says irritably.

He nods mildly, glancing behind him at Ben and Rich, who look a bit concerned. “Gentlemen? And questions or concerns?”

“Uhm…” Rich hesitates.

“Her memory isn’t great,” Ben offers. “She does okay if we remind her, but she’s not great at remembering on her own.”

“Mm,” he nods. “That’s normal. Your brain is a bit scrambled, Beth,” he explains gently, looking back at her. “That should improve with time. Though it may take quite a few weeks or months to settle out. Just keep priming her, giving her clues, explaining when she’s not recalling it.”

Rich nods. “She’s, uh… sorry, love,” he says to Beth, wincing. “She’s very emotional, too. Short temper, wild mood swings. It’s just… it’s not really Beth .” 

“That’s also very common. It happens with concussions, too. People are easier to anger. They cry at the drop of a hat. Some people, with bad enough injuries, though I don’t think this is Beth’s case, can have complete shifts of their personalities. It’s all to do with the brain.”

Rich’s brow furrows and he glances at Beth worriedly. “Is that… is that permanent?”

“It may be. Unfortunately, we’re not terribly good at knowing to what extent patient’s will regain their prior function,” he says regretfully. “We know that these first few days don’t usually reflect long term outcomes. For that, you’ve got to wait several months, see what changes. The brain takes time to heal.”

Beth looks away, staring out the window, arms crossed tight over her chest. 

“How do we help her?” Rich asks gently. “With that?”

“I’m not sure how you mean,” Dr. Reeves answers. 

“Well… Beth had a bit of a rough day, yesterday,” he explains, patting her knee when she stiffens. “I think her head was hurting and she hadn’t slept well because they were in and out all night. She was… not her usual self. And she was rather… short with Viv, when she tried to help. She keeps trying to touch her head, and Viv has been catching her, to stop her, and Beth was pretty frustrated by that. She shouted at her and just… she said things she wouldn’t normally say. Treated her in a way I’ve never seen her treat anyone.” 

Dr. Reeves nods, regarding Beth for a moment. “And do you remember that, Beth?”

Flashes of her snapping at Viv, of her batting her hand away, of her Dad sitting there, staring at her disappointedly, fly through her mind. She shrugs sharply, nausea roiling in her stomach. “Sort of.”

“And what are your thoughts on that incident? Would you say your dad’s description is accurate?”

She shifts, pursing her lips. “I was angry,” she offers vaguely.

He nods, glancing at her dad.

“Beth said Viv was being controlling,” he says quietly. 

The doctor nods. “And is that how you feel? That she’s being controlling?”

She hesitates, then swallows. “...I don’t know. I’m just– it’s hard.”

“How do you mean?”

She shrugs. “My feelings,” she mumbles. “It’s a lot.” 

“Mm,” he hums, nodding. “And what does Viv say about this?”

Beth gets that tightening in the back of her throat again, eyes watering as she blinks. “Dunno. Haven’t seen her,” she chokes out. 

Dr. Reeves glances at Rich in surprise, who winces. “Viv was pretty hurt about what Beth said yesterday, and she’s got it in her head it’s best that she gives her some space. Beth’s not really gone off on anyone else, so… Viv’s decided she’s the problem.”

The doctor’s face goes carefully blank as he nods. “I see. And how do you feel about that, Beth?”

He turns to her, unbothered as he catches sight of her silent weeping. “Bad! Obviously!” She snaps, hiccuping softly.

“Can you tell me why you’re upset?” He asks gently. “No wrong answers, I just want to hear what you’re experiencing.”

“Because I hurt her! And I- I don’t even remember –”

“Is it mostly Viv that’s bothering you? Or is it something else?” He asks.

“It’s this whole bloody thing !” She sobs. 

“Most patients, in my experience, get the most upset with the person closest to them. Their partner, usually.”

“Why?” Beth sniffs, wiping her face. “Why her?” 

He smiles softly. “Think about how crazy the person you love drives you on any normal day. Now add pain and a difficulty regulating emotions to that.”

“She doesn’t drive me crazy!" She snaps. "She's perfect!" 

Dr. Reeves raises his eyebrows mildly, as Ben and Rich laugh softly. 

“Yeah, that’s actually not that abnormal of a reaction for her, if she thinks you’re talking bad about Viv. They really are properly obsessed with each other. It’s awful,” Ben offers, rolling his eyes playfully.

Beth stiffens, and Rich lays a hand on her leg. “You know he’s being a wind-up, Beth. He loves Viv. We all do.” 

She relaxes, marginally, but she’s still a bit rigid in the bed. 

“I see,” Dr. Reeves laughs softly. “Well, in that case… perhaps it’s just that Viv is the person you are most comfortable being yourself with. And unfortunately, at the moment, yourself is a bit emotionally fragile and temperamental. Perhaps you’re just not holding that back with her because you don’t hold anything back with her.”

Beth blinks. “Oh. Is that… is that a reason?” 

“I have no data to prove it, but it would make sense to me,” he offers. 

“But what do I do about that?” She asks, voice small. “I’m hurting her. I don’t want to hurt her. But I can’t even remember what happened –”

He shrugs. “Unfortunately all you can do is ask for her patience and understanding. And do your best to explain what you’re feeling. You’re all adjusting to this new temperament. Hopefully it’s not permanent, but even if it’s not, it might help if she knows what’s going on.”

Beth nods, biting her lip again, blinking rapidly as she stares at the blankets. She’s vaguely aware of the doctor saying goodbye and stepping out, but all she can think about is the fact that Viv’s isn’t here and it’s her fault, and–

“Beth,” Ben sighs, nudging her foot. “Don’t be stupid. She’s not gone forever. She would be here in a heartbeat, if you asked.”

She nods, sniffling, but her eyes are watery and uncertain. 

He sends her a look. “Should I give her a call? Say you’re asking for her?” 

Ben waits as Beth's lip wobbles between her teeth. She sniffles a few times, staring down at the blankets, her eyes drifting over to Viv's normal chair a few times. 

"Beth?" He prompts.

"I want her," she whispers. "I want my Vivi." 

“Okay,” he nods, tugging his phone out. 

Her face crumples the minute she thinks about whether or not Viv will answer, and whether or not she’ll be willing to come. The doubt crawls up her throat, leaving her choking on a sob, silent tears streaming down her face. 

“Jesus, don’t cry about it!” Ben yelps as he glances up at her. “I’m calling her right now! Relax!” 

Beth watches him, wiping furiously at her eyes, which continue to spill tears down her face as he holds the phone to his ear. 

“ Ben? ” Viv answers, her voice distant and tinny in the phone. 

“Hey,” he says, glancing at Beth. 

“What’s–”

“Before you panic-” he cuts in, “-everything’s fine. Er… there’s no emergency at least.”

“But everything isn’t fine,” Viv says, filling in the gaps. 

“Beth’s just a bit upset,” he says, looking very uncertain about how to handle Beth's meltdown. 

Silence fills the room for a moment as Viv hesitates. “ What about?”

“About the fact that you’re not here,” he sighs.

“ What?”

“Beth wants you here. She’s asking for you.”

“She is?” She asks, sounding astounded.

“She’s crying about it,” Ben explains. 

There’s another tense moment of silence, during which time Beth feels like she might actually be sick. But then Viv sighs heavily, the sound like wind blowing against the speaker.

“I’m on my way.” 

Chapter Text

Viv strolls in slowly with her hands shoved in her pockets, glancing around the room before finally looking at Beth. She offers a small smile, one that doesn’t quite brighten up her whole face. It’s a bit weighed down by the heaviness in her eyes that she tends to get when she hasn’t slept. 

“Hey.”

“Hi,” she whispers, watching as Viv takes the seat closest to her.

She doesn’t scoot up to the edge of the bed like she normally might. She sits back in the chair instead, crossing an ankle over her opposite knee, and then her arms over her chest.

“You okay?” She asks, concern peeking through. “How’s your head?”

Beth shrugs. “It’s okay,” she says softly. 

Viv nods. 

Beth glances awkwardly at her dad and brother, who are studying their phones intently, likely in an effort to offer some privacy. Or just to not draw attention to themselves. 

The tension is thick in the room, leaving Beth reeling for something to say. But Viv doesn’t help dispel it. She just sits there, watching. 

“Are you okay?” Beth finally ventures, hoping Viv might explain what’s going through her head. 

She doesn’t.  She glances up at Beth, then at Ben and Rich, who are obviously listening in the way people tend to when they’re trying not to make it obvious. The muscle in her jaw flickers once– twice– “Yeah. I’m fine.” 

Beth nods, waiting for Viv to elaborate, but she just sits there silently, fingers tapping an irregular, restless beat on her knee to match the beat of her bouncing foot. It’s the same way she acts when she’s anxious, but instead of avoiding eye contact, she can’t seem to stop making it . Her gaze flicks over Beth’s face, catching on the wounded side of her head over and over. Between those glimpses, she stares at Beth. Her expression stays oddly neutral, though it’s clear there’s about a million thoughts running around inside her brain. 

After a long period of quiet – long enough that Ben shifts awkwardly in his seat and clears his throat – Beth speaks. “You stayed home today,” she says, the doubt creeping into her voice despite her efforts to hide it. 

Viv shrugs, too casual. “Thought you could use a bit of space.”

Beth doesn’t really know what to say to that, especially when Viv doesn’t say anything else. “Oh,” she finally responds. “Why?” 

Viv’s shoulders lift stiffly again. “Figured I’d let everyone else have a turn to sit with you.”

Her tone is all wrong - cold and distant in a way that has Beth’s eyes going watery. “But I want you here,” she whispers pitifully. 

Viv just looks at her, her eyes shifting briefly to the side as she debates whether or not to say anything. Eventually, she sighs, rearranging herself in her seat. “It didn’t really feel that way yesterday, lief,” she says tiredly, rubbing her forehead. “Felt like you needed a break from me–”

“I don’t,” she protests desperately. “I don’t. I promise.”

Viv sighs again, still rubbing the spot at the bridge of her nose. “Beth, I’m clearly getting on your nerves. Yesterday you–”

“I know,” she interrupts. “But I didn’t mean it.”

Viv sighs, pursing her lips. “Right,” she says, frustrated. “Sure.” 

“I didn’t!” Beth bursts out desperately. “I’m just– the doctor said it’s ‘cause I love you so much, and–”

“Beth,” Viv sighs, shaking her head.

“He did, ” she argues. “That’s what he said! Dad – tell her what he said!” 

Viv sighs again, cutting her gaze to Rich.

“He said it’s normal for her to be very emotional,” he agrees gently. “And that she’s probably reacting the worst to you because she feels the safest with you. And so she’s not holding anything back.” 

Viv laughs humorlessly. 

“That’s pretty much what he said,” Ben jumps in. 

“Fine. That’s what he said. What am I meant to do with that?” She demands bitterly. 

“It’s not her fault, Viv,” Ben starts, his protective instinct flaring.

“I didn’t say it was,” she answers, her eyes sharp as she turns towards him. 

“Well you’re acting like–”

“I’m acting like my presence pisses her off,” she hisses, irritation simmering. “Which I think is very clear, given what she said yesterday–”

“She didn’t mean that–”

“Yeah,” Viv scoffs bitterly. “That’s what I said. I seem to recall being immediately corrected about that. Do you?”

Ben doesn’t really have a response to that, but Beth can see his jaw working, his teeth grinding together as his anger rises. 

“That’s not fair–”

“What do you want me to do, Ben?! Do you want me to come sit here and fight her when she says I’m being controlling? Or should I just sit and watch while she pulls out her drain, next time? Maybe I should let her rip her stitches out, too, while she’s at it! Or make herself sick with a migraine because she won’t stop touching her fucking –”

“Vivi.” 

Her voice is soft, but Viv whips around like Beth’s screamed in her ear. She turns so quickly her hair flies around in a halo for a moment before settling down again, resting around her shoulders which rise and all with the speed of her breath. 

“Baby,” Beth murmurs – gentle, because she doesn’t want to get her worked up again. “Breathe.” 

Viv’s breath doesn’t slow, but she doesn’t immediately start raging again, which gives Beth’s dad time to speak. 

“Just try to be patient with her, Viv. Give her time. The doctor said this is normal, and that we just have to remember that she’s not normal Beth right now,” he advises. “She doesn’t remember the same way. She doesn’t have the same control as usual. She’s not our normal Beth right now, but she is Beth . And she still loves you–”

Viv’s eyes flutter shut and she swallows hard, like the words are physically painful to hear. 

“--and I know you still love her,” he continues. “It’s hard. It’s unfair. It really, truly is – But don’t let this get between you.”

“Look at her,” he demands quietly. “Look at the way she’s looking at you. Her temper is bad, that’s true. But she’s still your Beth that looks at you like you hung in the moon. She’s still your Beth, and you still love her – right?”

Silence hangs in the air for a moment after Rich stops speaking, his voice somehow echoing off the walls, bouncing around inside the space between Viv’s ears. 

“Of course I do,” she responds. Then, to the girl in front of her, softly – “Of course I still love you, lieverd.” 

She offers a watery smile. “I still love you, too.” 

Viv nods, her brow still furrowed slightly. When the first tear slips down Beth’s cheek, she reaches out and wipes it away.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffs. “I don’t even– I’m sorry– I don’t know–”

“Liefje,” she whispers, her voice catching. “I didn’t stay home because I don’t love you.”

Beth nods, though she feels herself asking anyway. “Then why did you?” 

She sighs, her thumb stroking softly over Beth’s face. “It just felt like I was doing something wrong– like whatever I was doing, I was the problem. And I didn’t really– I didn’t want to set you off and make you more upset with me. Or make your head hurt. I thought, maybe if I gave you some space–”

“I don’t want space,” Beth sobs, holding Viv’s hand to her face. “I don’t want you to stay away. I want you here. With me.” 

Viv doesn’t look convinced, but she nods slightly, at least acknowledging her words. 

“I do , Viv,” she pleads. “I want you . I don’t feel right when you’re not here, and– I’m sorry . I’m sorry I shouted. I don’t even remember why , I just got so frustrated and you– you were there , and–”

Beth’s voice breaks off into a series of gasping sobs and hiccups as she slips into her hysteria, her face going blotchy with tears. Without hesitation, Viv pushes out of her chair, still holding Beth’s face as she comes to perch on the edge of the bed. She twists her hand around, catching Beth’s fingers which rest over hers, then takes her other hand. She tangles their fingers, leaning close enough that she takes up Beth’s entire field of vision, blocking any view of the room beyond her.

“I know,” she whispers, bringing Beth’s knuckles to her lips repeatedly. “I know. It’s okay.”

Beth shakes her head, her hands still limp in Viv’s. “It’s not okay–”

“It is,” she cuts in. “It’s alright. It’ll all be alright.”

Beth leans forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Viv, laying halfway against her. “You promise?” She whispers.

Viv nods, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Promise.”

Chapter Text

When Beth wakes up in the morning, Viv’s already sitting at her bedside. She didn’t hear her come in, and she’s feeling groggy enough to wonder just how early Viv got here, if she’s still this tired. 

“Vivi?” She mumbles, reaching for her.

Viv’s fingers slip into hers, her skin a bit cold, like normal. “Hi, lieverd.”

“What’re you doing?”

Viv lifts her book. “Reading.” 

“Mm,” Beth frowns, blinking as she stretches. A bit of her hair gets pulled and she winces, reaching up to untangle it from the pillow, but Viv stops her, rocking forward to grab her wrist. Beth blinks, watching as Viv tugs her arm back down to rest on the bed. “What’re you doing?” She asks again, bleary eyed and confused. 

Viv makes her cute little concerned face, the one that makes Beth want to smooth out the wrinkles in her forehead. “I’m reading,” she says again, lifting her book in her other hand.

“No,” Beth says slowly, tilting her head to look at where Viv’s hand rests over her wrist. “I–oh,” she says, lifting her hand again briefly before Viv gently pushes it back down. “My head.”

Viv frowns sharply. “Does it hurt?”

“Mm-mm,” Beth says, rolling it back and forth across her pillow. “Just forgot, for a minute,” she explains. 

Viv purses her lips, shifting in her seat. She sets her book to the side, taking Beth’s hand in both of hers. “Beth– we’re in the hospital, lief–”

“I know,” she cuts in. “Clobbered in the head in the match, surgery. I remember now.”

Viv snorts a little, despite herself. “Right,” she agrees, nodding. 

Beth nods, eyes slipping shut again. “M’tired,” she mumbles.

“Well,” Viv says easily. “It’s early.” 

“How early?” 

“A little before seven,” Viv replies. 

Beth’s brows draw together, an odd sense of confusion washing over her. She can’t quite catch the thought though, instead mumbling, “that’s really early.” 

“Mm. It is,” Viv agrees. 

“Hey,” Beth says, looking at her for a moment. “When can I touch my head?” She asks, gesturing at it. “It’s bothering me.”

“Bothering you how?” Viv asks, rocking forward to balance herself on a single hand on the mattress, leaning over Beth to get a closer look. “The drain? Is it pulling?”

“Oh, yeah,” Beth mumbles. “There’s a drain in there.”

“Yeah,” Viv agrees distractedly. “Is it tugging at all? Pulling–”

“Itchy,” Beth explains. 

Viv’s breath is soft in her ear as she hovers, inspecting it closely, a few gentle touches falling on Beth’s scalp as she looks. “I don’t know, lief. It looks okay to me. But we can ask when they come by later, okay? Before your surgery.” 

“Mkay,” Beth agrees, nodding sleepily. “You’ll have to remember though. My brain sucks.”

“Your brain doesn’t suck, baby,” Viv admonishes. 

“Kinda does,” she argues, already dozing back off. “S’like…scrambled eggs in there.” 

What feels like five minutes later, Viv’s voice sounds in her ear again, her fingers brushing gently over her head, rucking her hair back. “Beth. Wake up, lieverd.”

She stirs, groaning softly. “What? I’m sleepin’.”

“The doctors are here,” Viv murmurs, sounding very close to her ear. “I need you to wake up.”

“Hnng,” she whines, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Beth,” Viv says again, her fingers stroking over one cheekbone, her lips brushing against the other. “Wake up, baby. They want to take the drain out now. The itchy thing, remember?”

Beth turns her face towards Viv’s, blinking when she takes up nearly her whole field of vision. She smiles softly, but looks a bit anxious, too. “Hi,” she breathes. “They need to take the drain out now, okay?”

Beth blinks. 

“They’re taking you to the operating room,” Viv says, her voice tight. “But it should be quick, and We’ll be right here when you get back.”

Beth pushes herself up a bit, frowning. “What?”

“You’re having your operation today, remember?” Viv says, making a valiant effort to hide the fear behind her eyes. “Just a quick one. Easy.”

“Surgery?” Beth asks, her pulse spiking enough that her monitor beeps before someone reaches up to flick it off. 

“Yeah, baby,” Viv nods, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “Your second surgery is today.” 

“But I– I didn’t–” Beth stammers, pushing herself upright. “I didn’t know that!” 

Viv looks at her pityingly. “I– I think you may have forgotten, baby.”

“No, I–”

“I’m sorry,” Viv interrupts softly, feeling more than a little guilty. “I should have said this morning. I thought you were just sleepy, not– I should have reminded you–”

“Where’s Dad? And Ben?” Beth asks suddenly, looking around. 

“Right here,” they answer, suddenly melting out of the wall behind Viv’s head. 

“Oh,” she breathes. “Hi.”

“Hey,” the answer. Both their smiles are a bit tight, too. “Quick surgery and we’ll see you on the other side, yeah?”

“Okay,” Beth nods, blowing out a nervous breath. 

“Alright,” says a fourth voice, from behind her. There’s someone here, apparently. “Are we all set?”

“Wait,” Beth says, throwing a hand out desperately, like it might stop the bed from moving, if they chose to take her away. “Wait, I’ve got to– I need– hug and kiss– Vivi. Dad, Ben, I need–”

Viv nods, already moving. She hugs her carefully, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she leans over her. Beth’s fingers dig into her shoulders, trying to hold her as close as possible. “You’ll do great, lieverd. Really quick, and we’ll see you straight after.” 

Beth nods, hands still grasping Viv’s shirt. Viv’s fingers gently pry her off holding them in one hand against her chest while she pulls her into a very soft kiss. “I love you, Beth. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

“Love you.” 

Then Viv draws away and it’s her Dad pressed up against her, then Ben. They murmur soft good lucks and love yous in her ear, but all she can do is stare at Viv over their shoulders, wide-eyed and panicked. The moment Ben starts moving away, the bed lurches under her, already rolling for the door. She throws a hand out for Viv, squeezing her fingers tightly as they pass each other.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You’re okay. You’ll be just fine. Just a bit of a nap, and we’ll see you after.” 

Her fingers pull out of her grip as they move through the door, and Beth’s left staring despondently at her own hand, her skin tingling where Viv’s skin had dragged against hers.

The trip to the operating theater is long and confusing. And a bit terrifying. All the walls are white, the hallways cold and sterile. She passes people that don’t look at her, or that stare down at her sternly as they walk by. The tiles on the ceiling above her flash by, interspersed with lights that make her flinch. They bang over bumps on the floor and clang through open doorways. Her head throbs by the time they arrive, and then they’re sliding her over onto a table and there’s a dizzying number of people around as she stares up at the blinding lights. Hands grab at her gown and fiddle with her IVs. Someone puts stickers on her chest and a mask over her face and something on her legs. And then someone’s talking, their face very close to hers as they lean over her head, upside down. But she can’t really process their words before her arm starts stinging and the world fades away into inky blackness. 

Blackness melts away into light. 

Blinding, burning light. 

It illuminates her eyelids, glowing red when she closes them. When she opens them, there’s a dizzying array of lights and whirling motion, colors and shapes whizzing past her face at nauseating speeds. 

The other thing that exists here, besides light, is pain . 

Throbbing, aching, burning, stinging pain. She tries to reach for it, to find the source and get rid of it, but before she can, a shrieking noise fills the air and a weight presses down on her wrist, then her other arm and her ankles. Then there’s weight on her hips, her shoulders. A vice grip on her chin, keeping her from pulling away–

The combination of lights and sounds and sharp, sour antiseptic and something metallic is overwhelming. Impossible to ignore, impossible to escape. Nausea rises her in throat and she lurches, jerking back as something is pressed against her face to cover her mouth. She can feel her own breath, hot against her cheeks as it blows back at her. She reels back, trying ot get away, but there’s that iron weight at her wrists and ankles again. 

She thrashes, sending white-hot searing through her head. A steady beat drums inside her skull, blasting sparks across her vision, sending shockwaves through her ears. 

Something touches her face again, and she flinches away–

But this touch is different. It isn’t painful or demanding. It’s soft. Gentle. Guiding. On both of her cheeks, holding her still–

Her breath is still coming in panicked, painful gasps. She’s still squeezing her eyes shut against the blaring brightness of the lights and sounds around her until–

Everything goes dark. 

Soft, still darkness behind her eyelids. Seemingly on the other side, too. Blackness, which blankets everything, dampening the shrieking sounds of the room, the dizzying blend of colors and lights. The agony behind her eyes. 

There’s a soft whoosh , now, instead of the screeching she’d been hearing before. That same gentle touch against her skin. Something tickles her nose, and she manages to peel her eyelids apart, blinking. 

It doesn’t make sense, what she’s seeing. A curtain of brown. Two blue-grey blurry circles. A soft pink line. A grouping of shapes and colors somehow familiar to her, just like the touch against her cheeks. Familiar and reassuring, even if she doesn’t know why. 

She reaches for the familiar thing, heat blooming under her fingertips when she makes contact. The pink line moves under her touch, a soft breeze moving in the space between her fingers. 

“Shhhhhh. Breathe, Beth,” the shapes say. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, lieverd. It’s okay.” 

Chapter Text

They’d wanted her on bed rest for the first few days after her injury, but now they say it’s important for her to get up and out of bed. Now that her brain is protected under bone and little metal plates covering the holes they’d drilled through it. Now that her skin is sewn back together and there’s no rubber tubing tunneled under her skin and bone. 

Now they want her up and about. She’s had plenty of time to recover from yesterday’s anesthesia, they say. 

She overestimates how easy it will be. 

The physio makes a big fuss about how to get up out of bed safely, which Beth only half-listens to. She’s been getting up out of bed every day of her life. She’s pretty sure she can do it without instructions from a stranger. 

But then she sits forward, shuffling to the side of the bed, and the minute her legs dangle over the side, she goes toppling over, careening toward the ground. 

The physio catches her by the shoulders, holding her upright as her vision swims. 

“Alright there?”

Beth closes her eyes, wincing at the sensation of the world spinning around her. “Mm.”

“Dizzy at all? Nauseous?” He asks.

“I’m fine,” Beth manages, the worst of the spinning lessening a bit. 

“Alright, let’s do some exercises here, then,” he says. “Go ahead and extend your knee for me. One then the other.”

Beth sends him an incredulous look. “You want me to kick?”

He nods, ignoring her scoff as she straightens her knee, one side, then the other, fifty times before he has her stop.

“I’m a footballer,” she says, a little haughtiness in her voice. “That’s nothing.” 

He laughs softly. “Fair enough. Lift your knees then.” 

Beth marches in place sitting at the side of the bed, slightly unnerved by how much her thighs burn after doing so little for so many days. 

He smiles knowingly, wisely not commenting as he walks her through a few more exercises. 

“Can I get up now?” She asks, shifting.

He puts a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet. And no sitting up on the edge of the bed unsupervised.”

Naturally, as soon as he leaves and Viv comes back, Beth decides to surprise her by sitting on the edge of the bed unaccompanied. She goes slowly, a little concerned about her prior dizziness, but she does okay shuffling to the edge. She leans back on her hands, slowly lowering her feet to the floor, grinning to herself when no bout of vertigo sweeps over her. 

Viv stops dead when she walks in, gaping at her from the doorway.

“Surprise!” Beth says, grinning. “I get to sit up now!” 

Viv smiles back. “Look at you!”

“Do I look so tall now?” She asks. “Since I’m up?” 

“ So tall,” Viv agrees, coming closer. 

“I figured,” Beth says, a little bit smug. “And look, it’s easier to kiss me.” 

Viv laughs. “Mm,” she hums, cupping Beth’s face. “That is a plus.” 

Beth smiles, reaching for Viv’s face as she comes closer. She closes her eyes, lips parted in a smile as their mouths meet.

“ Beth!”

“Ow!” Beth squeaks, her eyes flying open as a hand snatches at the back of her neck, another grabbing the front of her gown, tugging a bit on the ends of her hair in the process.

The world looks a little bit different. A bit sideways, a bit tilted. The edge of the ceiling where it meets the wall is right behind Viv’s head, and she’s pretty sure it was just the wall before. She frowns, glancing around, only to look down at herself and realise she’s toppled sideways and backwards, only saved from whacking the back of her head on the bed rail by Viv’s hands on her, holding her upright. 

“Are you okay?!” She asks anxiously, keeping two hands on her as she holds her steady.

Beth blinks. She never actually felt off balance, and she certainly doesn’t now. But she definitely fell–

She closes her eyes again, testing.

“Beth!” Viv cries again, her hands tightening. “What are you doing?”

She blinks her eyes open, frowning. “I fall over whenever I close my eyes,” she says curiously. 

“What?”

“I can’t tell I’m falling,” Beth explains. “I don’t feel it.” 

Viv’s eyes widen. “Get back in the bed,” she says seriously, already half-lifting Beth into her arms. “Lie down.” 

“Viv, I’m–”

"Get back in the bed!"

Chapter Text

“Viv, really, I-”

“You’re not fine! Nothing about this is fine! You’re falling over! And you don't even feel it!"

"Baby," Beth tries, reaching a hand out to placate her.

But Viv's already snatching for the clicker on the bed, pressing the call bell about a hundred times while muttering softly to herself in Dutch. Beth doesn't know what she's saying, but she's sure it's not good.

Finally, a disembodied voice comes through the speaker, muffled and hard to understand. "Yes, can I help-"

Viv cuts in before whoever's on the other end can finish their thought. "We need the doctor."

“Why? What’s–”

“The doctor, please,” she says again, no room for argument. "Now." 

“I need to know what to tell them,” the voice says, a little irritably. “So I need to know what’s happening.”

“She fell,” Viv says, her eyes wide and fixed on Beth, like if she glances away, even for a moment, she might throw herself off the mattress and onto the floor. 

There's an awkward pause, then a click and the scurrying squeak of trainers across linoleum floors as someone rushes in. It's Beth's nurse, flanked by about two others, all pulling gloves on.  " She fell? Out of bed?” She demands. 

“No,” Beth starts.

Viv cuts her off. "I caught her. But she can't feel it-'

"Did you fall-"

Viv hisses irritably. "Aren't you listening? I caught her! But she’s falling over when she’s sitting still! And she doesn’t even feel it!" 

The nurses cast her a somewhat relieved, somewhat irritated glance. "So she didn't hit her head or anything? She didn't-"

"For the last time," Viv grits out. "I. Caught. Her. But her balance shouldn't be this bad, and they just operated yesterday, and-"

"That can be normal-"

"I don't give a fuck what's normal," Viv growls. "I want someone who knows what they're talking about to come see her! Now!" 

During the time it takes the nurse to summon one of the doctors, Beth tries to her best to calm Viv down. She's obviously terrified, thought she's making a valiant attempt to hide it behind seething fury. Her hands are caught tight in the blankets over Beth's legs, shaking slightly, even as Beth tries to gently wriggle her own fingers between Viv's. 

"Vivi," she murmurs, stroking a hand over her knuckles. "I'm okay-"

"No," she says tightly, her voice trembling just as hard as her hands. 

"I am, baby-"

"No. You're not."

“Everything’s just fine,” the doctor says calmly when he finishes his exam. He straightens from where he's been leaning over Beth, walking her through all sorts of maneuvers while Viv watches anxiously from behind him. It’s not Dr. Reeves, it’s some other neurologist, who Viv finds she hates more than is reasonable, with his impatient sighs throughout the duration of the sentence in which Viv expressed her concerns. “Her exam is fine,” he says. 

“They just operated yesterday, are you sure–”

“That wouldn’t cause this,” he says confidently. “She’s just fine.” 

“She fell ! Sitting still!” Viv protests. 

“It’s very common for patients with head injuries to have poor balance. The vestibular system in the inner ear–”

“It’s not her ear–”

He sends her a tight smile. “The system that helps you detect your position in space - what helps you balance,” he starts again. “That’s held in the inner ear. So for people who have had head injuries, it can be knocked around a bit, and their balance is affected while it heals.”

“But she doesn’t fall down otherwise–”

“She hasn’t stood,” he counters reasonably. “And generally people compensate for it just fine, while their eyes are open. But when they close them, and they no longer have visual input to tell them where they are, they tip over. It’s very normal.”

“So, what? She just falls?” Viv snaps. 

“No,” he answers. “She does her therapies and it gets better with time. And she takes care to make sure she’s holding onto something when she closes her eyes, so she’ll know if she’s tipping over, and can catch herself.” 

“She– they were talking about letting her come home! She can’t come home like this!”

He purses his lips unhappily, regarding Viv like she's a particularly bothersome chore. “Miss, this injury will take quite some time to heal. There are going to be some things you’re going to have to adjust to.”

Viv barely restrains herself from pinning him against the walll. “I’m aware of that,” she says roughly. “But not when it’s a risk of a fall and hitting her head again, which they said could cause permanent damage.” 

“Well,” he says, already walking towards the door. “That’s something to discuss with her team in the morning.”

"But you're her doctor-"

He doesn't even pause, calling back over his shoulder. "I'm just filling in overnight! Best wait til the morning and ask her team then."

Chapter Text

After that discussion, Viv pretty much immediately demands to speak to someone else - someone that actually knows something about Beth. The nurse very nonchalantly tells her that Beth’s normal team is gone for the day, and won’t be back ‘til morning. Before visiting hours. 

“Then you’ll have to let me in before visiting hours,” Viv parrots. 

“Visiting hours is hospital policy,” she informs her neutrally. “You won’t be allowed in until eight.”

“I was let in early yesterday!”

“That was a courtesy,” she says drolly. “Since your wife was having surgery. We won’t extend that privilege every day.” 

“I need to speak to her doctors,” Viv says, her frustration building. “You’ve just heard him say I need to speak to them, and they’re here before visiting hours. How am I meant to do that if I can’t be here when they’re around?”  

“You’ll just have to wait for someone to come by,” the nurse says, condescendingly. “Or trust that the patient is communicating well to her providers.” 

“Well, the patient has a brain injury and doesn’t even know what she had for breakfast this morning,” Viv sneers. “So forgive me if I don’t.”

The nurse doesn’t have much of a response to that one. She glances at Beth, who offers her a politely distant smile. She doesn’t love Viv referring to her like she’s a bit of a numpty, but in fairness, she doesn’t remember breakfast, so. She supposes she should support her, just this once. 

“Look,” Viv says, drawing her attention again. “I’ll be here at half-six. Either I’m here, sitting in this chair, where it’s convenient for everyone, or I’m sitting outside, ringing the bell every five seconds and trying to talk to the doctors on speaker phone over all the racket. Your choice.”

“Well,” she huffs. “You certainly won’t be allowed in if you’re being disruptive–”

Viv pushes halfway out of her chair. “I’ll be as disruptive as I have to be to keep her safe,” she growls. 

Ben chooses that exact moment to walk through the door, blocking the exit and standing awkwardly, his eyes darting from Viv to the nurse to Beth. Rich pauses behind him, peering over his shoulder.

“Everything okay?” he asks, looking at Viv he’s not entirely sure whether or not he should be on her side.

Viv returns to her seat, though she’s no less stiff. “Beth’s falling over,” she grunts. “Need to talk to her doctors about it, but apparently they’re not here and won’t be back til the morning.”

“Oh,” Rich says easily, sliding past Ben to place the bags of takeaway they’d collected on Beth’s bedside table. “Then you’ll just come by in the morning.”

Viv cuts a glare at the nurse, who’s still a bit trapped by Ben standing in the doorway. “She’s saying I can’t be here that early,” she says bitterly. “Because the doctors come by before visiting hours at eight.”

“Then they’ll just have to come back later,” he concludes, looking at the woman standing along the wall. “If she can’t be here when they come by, they’ll have to come when she can be here.”

“The doctors are very busy–”

“Sorry,” Rich says, interrupting as he turns in his chair to face her fully. Beth and Ben’s backs go a bit straighter at his tone. “But surely you’re not suggesting we don’t have any ability to speak to Beth’s doctors,” he says, somehow calm and icy cold all at once. 

“It’s just that they can’t be at your beck and call,” she says stiffly. “They’ve got other patients–”

He narrows his eyes, pursing his lips. “I see. And they come by every morning? On their own schedule?”

The nurse nods. 

“And that’s before eight?” Rich asks again. 

Her chin dips again in confirmation.

“Well then,” he chirps. “I suppose we’ll just have to be here before eight, then.”

The nurse looks positively stumped, looking at Beth’s father like he’s just sprouted three heads right in front of her. “You can’t– visiting hours start at eight!”

That cool glare is back. “I’m not sure exactly what you’d like us to do, then,” he says politely. “We’re offering to make it as easy as possible by coming here early, so that we’re ready with our questions by the time the doctors come by, so as to not force them to come back later, since they’re so… busy,” he says distastefully. “And you’re suggesting that isn’t a valid solution because of… what?”

“Hospital policy!” She blusters.

“Hospital policy you didn’t give a rats’ arse about yesterday before Beth’s surgery,” Ben counters. “Sounds like it’s pretty flexible to me.”

“We– we can’t just change the rules–”

“Seems like you can, though,” Ben says again. “You did. Yesterday.” 

“That was a special circumstance!”

“And so is this,” Rich argues. 

“I simply can’t allow three people in on a whim simply because–”

“Then don’t,” Rich cuts in. “Let Viv in.”

“It would be more appropriate that you come,” she tries, looking at him like he’d be the easiest to deal with at that hour. “Since you’re her father–”

“And Viv’s her wife,” he fires back. “Believe that makes her the decision-maker, doesn’t it?”

The nurse gapes openly at Rich’s statement. Normally families bicker about this sort of thing, each of them wanting to be the most central–

Viv interrupts her thought, smiling tightly. “Guess I’ll see you at half six, then.” 

Viv shows up at half-six, as promised. She rings the bell, waiting until someone comes over the intercom with a neutral how may I help? 

“I’m here to visit Beth Mead in 743,” she says.

“I’m sorry,” the clerk answers. “Visiting hours aren’t until–”

“I’m aware,” Viv interrupts. “But I was told to speak to her doctors, and they round before eight.”

“Miss–”

“Why don’t you ask Beth’s nurse? Grace is her name, I believe. She should know what I’m referring to.”

“Hold, please,” comes the detached voice. There’s a pause, some murmuring that sounds distinctly irritated, and then the doors before her buzz with the unlocking mechanism, swinging open in front of her. 

Viv steps through with absolutely no hesitation, flashing a sarcastic smile to Grace and the unit secretary, who are standing together, glaring at her a bit. “Thanks,” she says, breezing past them down the hall. 

She sits in her normal chair by Beth’s bed, waiting. It’s about forty minutes until there’s a soft knock at the door, and a veritable crowd of people come in. It’s Dr. Reeves, along with about five other doctors, all obviously surprised to see Viv sitting there. 

“Viv,” Dr Reeves greets her mildly. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” she nods. “I’ve got questions.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Well. Let’s hope I have answers, then.” 

“When are you sending Beth home?” She asks pointedly. 

He glances over his shoulder, over the heads of everyone else to someone by the door. “Ed?” He asks. 

There’s some shuffling as the sea of white coats parts for an older man, who shuffles his way to the front. 

“Ed Harrigan,” he says, offering Viv his hand for a rather enthusiastic shake. “Neurology consultant.”

Viv nods, glancing at Dr. Reeves. 

“I’m the Sports Specialist,” he explains, answering her unspoken question. “He’s the general specialist for the brain. He’s in charge, I offer my opinions.”

Viv nods again, turning her attention to Dr. Harrigan. “When are you sending Beth home, then?”

“Tomorrow, I should hope,” he answers, with several eager nods. He directs his answer just to the left of Viv’s head, which almost has her glancing behind her to see what’s there. 

“How are you planning on doing that?” She asks mildly, raising an eyebrow. 

“Sorry?” 

“How are you sending her home if she’s done nothing for herself in the hospital over the last week?”

“Oh,” he says, blinking. “Well. She isn’t requiring treatments here in the hospital, any longer. We just wanted to monitor her, and she’s doing very well! She shouldn’t need to stay here for any reason I can think of.”

Viv purses her lips unhappily. “She hadn’t even sat up before yesterday,” she points out. “And she nearly toppled over doing that, when she closed her eyes. Her balance is terrible, she hasn’t even tried walking. How exactly is she meant to come home like that?” 

“Did she?” He asks mildly, twitching a bit. “That’s very common.”

Viv’s jaw flickers. “Great. Well, I’d love it if she didn’t come home and fall over trying to get out of bed and bash her newly not-bleeding head into something. So how are we going to make that happen?”

Someone in the crowd of coats clears their throat, coughing slightly at her attitude. 

Dr. Harrigan just tilts his head. “Has physio not come to see her?”

“They have,” she says tightly. “But all they did was sit her up.”

“Mm,” he nods. “Well, they should do a formal evaluation today. Walking, dressing, stairs, the like. They’ll make a recommendation about whether or not she can go straight home, or if they think she’ll need a bit of help at a rehabilitation centre for a period of time.”

“And if they decide that?”

“Then she’ll be discharged to a rehabilitation centre tomorrow, instead of home,” he says, like it’s obvious.

“If she comes home, how am I meant to take care of her? What should I expect? What do I look out for, to know if something’s wrong? Are there things she can or can’t do? Does she do therapy at home? When does she come back?”

Dr. Harrigan stays very still as Viv rattles off her questions, then twitches his nose a few times, moving his glasses up his face. “Are you familiar with concussions?” He asks. 

Viv nods. “We’re footballers.”

“Lovely,” he says sincerely. “Well, then. You should know what to look out for, and what rules there are, mostly. It’s best if there’s quiet and rest, no screens. Very gentle activity, as much as she can tolerate. She may be irritable, emotional. She may sleep more than usual or have poor appetite. Things to be concerned about would be if she starts behaving bizarrely, has a severe headache that doesn’t relent with her medication, if she has any further head injury, or– really anything you’re worried about, you can call.”

“Call who? 999?” Viv asks.

“Oh, there will be a number in your paperwork,” he says, like it hadn’t occurred to him she wouldn’t know that already. “Straight to the neurologist on call. That’s me, this week. You can tell me what’s going on, and I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Oh,” Viv says, her defensiveness melting a bit. “Really?”

He nods vigorously. “As for follow up - she’ll have therapy daily, either at home or at a facility where she’s staying, like we discussed. If it’s at home, we’ll arrange for someone to come to your house, no worries there. We can have a nurse come by, as well, if you’re concerned about being able to take care of her–”

Viv shakes her head. “I just want to be sure I’m doing it right. It’s not that I can’t . It’s that I’m worried I don’t know what to do.”

He offers a crooked smile, his lip twitching slightly. “You were here before the sunrise this morning to ask your questions, my dear. Bullied our nurses into it, if I heard right,” he chuckles. “I think you’ll do just fine.”

Viv’s lip curls involuntarily. “What about when she comes back? To be seen?”

“We’ll have her follow up every few weeks for the first couple months. Just to check in.”

Viv nods. “How long before she’s… better?”

He smiles sadly this time, patiently. “That I can’t say. That bits up to you and your neurons,” he says, turning to Beth. “Any other questions? From either of you?”

Beth says no, turning to Viv who thinks for a minute, flipping through some list on her phone. “I think that’s it for now,” she finally says.

“Lovely. Well. We’ll be off, then,” he chirps, spinning on his heel to usher the rest of the silent team behind him out the door. Dr. Reeves hovers for a minute, offering each of them a kind smile, before he steps out, too, closing the door behind him.

As it clicks shut, Beth leans forward, grabbing Viv’s wrist. She turns, sliding her chair around to face her while Beth busies herself tangling their fingers. 

“You’re in a mood today,” she says, teasing.

Viv shrugs stiffly. “No one’s explaining anything. It’s annoying.”

“Are they not?” Beth asks. “I thought I just didn’t know because I was forgetting.”

“No,” Viv huffs. “They’re just telling us bits and pieces - ‘oh, falling’s normal. Physio’s coming later, Beth might go home tomorrow, isn’t that great?’” she mocks.

Beth’s brow furrows. “Is that– is that not great?”

Viv lifts her head from where she’d been glaring at the blankets, searching Beth’s face. “What?”

Beth removes her hands from Viv’s, settling back against the bed again, where she’s propped upright. “You don’t want me to come home?” 

“Beth,” Viv murmurs, reaching for her. She stops when Beth pulls her hand out of reach to cross her arms tightly against her chest, instead leaning forward to look into her eyes seriously. “Lief, I want you to come home. Of course I do. I just want you to be safe .”

“I’ll be safe,” she says petulantly, the rejection aching in her chest. 

“Some of it’s not up to you, though, love,” Viv explains patiently. “I just– I don’t want to rush bringing you home if that’s not what’s best. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“And you’re probably enjoying it, anyway,” Beth mutters bitterly, gritting her teeth. “Being alone.”

“Baby,” Viv sighs. “That’s not true.”

Beth stays quiet, fighting the building rage. Some part of her knows she’s being absurd, but she can’t really figure out why . It’s too hard to think about anything beyond the simmering emotion, the way her limbs are buzzing with a need to move, and–

“Beth. Lieverd, look at me, please,” Viv says, ducking down to get in her line of sight. “Look at me.”

Beth looks up, glaring a bit. 

“Do I look like I’ve been enjoying being at home without you?” She asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“What?”

“Look at me,” Viv says, gesturing to her face, then the rest of her. “Really look . Do I look like I’ve been enjoying peace and quiet at home? Without you?” 

Beth frowns, unclear what she’s getting at. Nothing comes to mind, just sorting through her thoughts. But she lets her eyes drift over her anyway, their movement catching periodically on things that suddenly seem obvious. Her hair is greasy, like she hasn’t showered. Her eyes are swollen and bruised from lack of sleep beneath her glasses, which she hardly ever wears outside of the house. She looks a bit sick, really, which Beth somehow hadn’t noticed before. She’s dressed in– those are Beth’s clothes. And Viv’s hands shake a bit as she reaches out for her, sliding her palm over Beth’s hand. She turns it over in her grip, studying her cuticles - how they’re picked to bits, bloodied and raw in places. 

“Vivi,” Beth breathes, glancing up. “Liefie, you look terrible.”

Viv snorts, bowing her head as she shakes with soft laughter. “Thanks, love.”

“Sorry,” she replies automatically. “Sorry, you just– are you okay?”

Viv offers her a sad smile. “Of course I’m not okay, Beth. I’m worried about you.”

Beth nods absently, her focus drawn to all the things about Viv she seemingly missed. 

“Do you believe me now?” Viv asks softly, brushing her fingertips over her hand.

“Hm?” 

“Do you believe me,” Viv repeats. “That I want you home? It’s just that I want you home safely. ” 

Beth frowns, tilting her head. “Why wouldn’t I believe you about that?” 

Viv smiles tiredly, shaking her head. “Nevermind.”

She frowns at her, her brain whirring. It’s hard to remember, but she feels the ghost of– something– in her belly. “Oh. I was mad at you, just now,” she says softly. 

Viv nods. 

“Oh,” Beth says again. “I– I forgot.”

Viv nods, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, baby. You forgot.” 

“Well, that’s nice, at least,” she tries. “Can’t argue if I don’t know what I’m upset about.”

Viv smiles weakly. “Yeah. That’s nice,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching Beth’s face, and brings her hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Then she lays her hand down, setting back in her seat. “So– breakfast,” she says, picking up the menu off the side table Beth hadn’t noticed. “What sounds nice?”

Chapter Text

The physio comes by later in the morning. 

He coaches Beth through sitting on the edge of the bed, first, while Viv nervously watches on. He listens carefully as Viv explains what happened yesterday, giving Beth a little frown of disapproval when he finds out that she sat up without supervision. She smiles innocently, but no one’s buying that she didn’t know that was against the rules. 

“Alright, Viv - go on and stand behind her, if you would. And Beth,” he says, kneeling in front of her. “Listen for a minute. Your balance is off, as we’ve learned,” he says patiently, waiting for her nod of understanding. “So you can’t trust that you’ll just feel if you’re falling, like normal. But, there are tricks for it. Put your hands on the rails for me, hold them like handles. Perfect. Now - close your eyes, and use your hands to know if you’re tilting.” 

Beth closes her eyes, her hands looped loosely over the bed rails. She stays fairly balanced for a minute, then starts listing to the side, careening towards the left. Viv goes to catch her, but Beth self-corrects, pulling a bit with her right hand. 

“Oops,” she says softly. 

“Good,” the physio says. “Now open your eyes. Put your hands on the bed this time. It’ll be harder, ‘cause you’ll have to use your core to balance.”

Beth nods, placing her hands on either side of her, then closes her eyes. She starts tilting immediately, this time, slightly off center from the start. But she corrects, like a wobbly toddler on the balance-beam, wiggling back and forth, but staying upright. She grins, opening her eyes.

“Did I do it?” She asks, turning to look at Viv over her shoulder. “Vivi? Was it good?”

Viv nods, though she’s clearly a bit stressed. “You did good, lief. A bit wobbly, but that’s okay.”

“Wobbles are fine,” the physio cuts in. “It’s falls we don’t want. So, Beth - that’s how you’ll keep your balance, alright? Same principle. Use your hands, hold onto something. It’ll help when you’re feeling a bit dizzy, too.”

She nods, running her hands over the lumps in the blankets. 

“Alright, should we stand?” He asks, pushing to his feet and offering his hands. 

Beth eagerly slides to the edge of the bed, placing her feet on the floor. 

“Easy does it,” he warns, slowing her down a bit. He holds her forearms as she stands, her legs trembling a bit beneath her. She finds her balance, frowning in concentration, then looks at him seriously. 

“Can we walk?” 

“Slowly,” he nods, letting her shuffle her feet forwards. They’re itty-bitty little steps, but she moves him towards the end of the bed, then lets go of one of his arms and reaches out for Viv. 

She moves for her automatically, grasping her arm, and then the other as Beth turns fully towards her. 

“Hi,” she smiles, shuffling forward. 

“Hi,” Viv grins back. 

“Can I have a hug?” She asks, sliding her hands up Viv’s arms, then around her waist.

Viv wraps both her hands around Beth’s back, slowly easing her against her chest. “Of course you can, baby,” she breathes. She lets Beth burrow, reaching up to cradle the back of her head. They wobble a bit, but Viv holds them upright, moving to place her back against the wall for support as she takes all their weight. 

Beth squeezes her a bit, pressing her face into her further. Viv curls around her, dropping her own forehead to rest on Beth’s shoulder. They can both feel the physio standing behind Beth, watching carefully for any imbalance, but neither of them pay him any mind. 

Viv’s breath catches a bit, going choppy Beth’s ear. 

“Vivi?” 

Her grip tightens, holding Beth against her as she tries to draw back to look her in the face. “I missed you,” she rasps, her voice that tight, thin sort of quality that usually comes before tears. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Beth holds her tighter, pressing her mouth to Viv’s collarbone in a soft kiss. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

Beth’s sitting up in bed, grinning widely when Viv, her dad, and Ben walk in. 

“Good moooooooorning,” she sings. 

“Morning, baby girl,” Rich greets, smiling back. “Have a good night?”

Beth shrugs. “Hardly slept, but. That’s okay.” 

Viv frowns as she moves towards her, ducking to press a kiss to Beth’s head. “Why didn’t you sleep?” She asks softly, pausing for just a moment with her hand on Beth's cheek as she moves back. 

“Too excited 'cause I get to go home today!” She beams. “And guess what?”

“What, baby?”

“I remembered that all on my own! No one even reminded me!” She reports. 

Ben snorts softly as he takes his seat, while Viv just looks at her like she’s hung the moon. 

“That’s great, love,” she says sincerely. “That’s really good news.”

Beth nods, still beaming. “And they said they’re gonna try to have everything done by ten! So I can get the whole day at home, almost.”

Rich laughs softly. “Is there something you want to do at home? Anything you’re looking forward to?”

“A shower.”

“You can’t take a shower yet, baby,” Viv reminds her. “Gotta wait a while longer before your scars can get wet, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Beth frowns. “But I feel so gross–”

“We can give you a bath,” she answers. “We just can’t wash your hair yet.”

Beth makes a face, grimacing.

Viv chuckles. “It’s fine, lief. We’ll use your dry shampoo til we can get you a real shower.”

“Ugh,” she groans, flopping back dramatically. “Fine. I guess that’s okay.”

“There’s nothing else you’re looking forward to?” Rich prompts. “Just a shower?”

Beth thinks, her face scrunched up in concentration. “Uh… wearing real clothes? Wait, Viv - Did you bring me clothes? I don’t have any–”

“I brought them,” she nods, patting the bag she’s sat on Beth’s side table. 

“Okay. You’re gonna have to help me change,” she says seriously. 

Viv nods, thought she bites her lip nervously. “I might wait til I can talk to the physio again. Just so I can make sure I remember what to do to make sure you’re not gonna fall over.”

“I’ll be fine–”

“Baby,” Viv sighs. “I just don’t want anything to happen. I know you don’t like it, but we’ve still got to be a bit careful with you. You’re not one-hundred percent yet.”

Beth groans irritably. “Okay, fine.” 

“You’re not excited for anything else?” Ben asks, his voice teasing.

Beth squints at him, wracking her brain. “I’m forgetting something,” she says slowly.

He nods. 

She keeps thinking, blinking hard a few times as her eyes go tight and tired. “Uhm–”

“There’s someone there,” he prompts gently. “Somebody you haven’t seen since before the match–”

“Steph?” Beth guesses. “But– wait. Hasn’t she been here?”

“Not Steph,” he says, shaking his head. “But yeah, she has been here. It’s someone else. Someone in the family.”

Beth blinks, looking at Ben like he’s lost his mind. “What? “ Then she looks at Viv. “Is your brother here? Or your mum, or something?”

Viv shakes her head. “Nope.”

“Who is it?” Beth asks. “Someone from my family or your family?”

“Both,” she says simply, a small smile creeping up at the corner of her mouth. 

“Both?” Beth echoes, thinking hard. It's not anyone from Whitby - Viv wouldn't consider them her family. And it's no one from the Netherlands, 'cause then Beth wouldn't consider them family. It could be a friend, but they specifically said family... “I I don’t know. I can’t think of anybody!” 

Ben tuts playfully, clicking his tongue as he shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Can’t believe you’d forget your own child– ”

Beth gasps so dramatically that Viv actually jumps in surprise at the noise. “ Moo!” She shouts, her arm flying out to grab at Viv’s arm. “Oh no - I can’t believe I forgot –”

“It’s okay,” Viv soothes her gently, resting her hand over Beth’s. “She won’t hold it against you.”

“You’re gonna let me cuddle her, right?” Beth says, looking at Viv so hopefully, it actually makes her heart clench. “You’re not gonna, like… try to keep her–”

“I’m probably going to ask your dad or Ben to grab her when we first get there,” she says honestly. 

“Viv–” she groans. 

“Just ‘cause she’s going to be so excited, and I’m worried she’ll trip you up while you’re walking. But once you’re sitting–”

“She can crawl all over me, right? That’s fine, right? If I’m sitting?”

Viv nods, though sighs like it pains her a bit. “She just can’t lick your incisions,” she warns. “That’s too many germs.”

Beth rolls her eyes, though with less bite than Viv’s expecting. “Fine. Just not my scars.”

The next two hours are practically torture, in Beth’s opinion. They sit and chat, they wait for the doctor to confirm she’s being discharged, which the nurse so kindly reminds them about every half-hour. And then, once he does, they have to wait for the physio to come back by, so they can go over the instructions on how to care for Beth at home. 

Beth whines about it, quite a lot, actually. But Viv stands firm, waiting until he comes in, taking careful notes while he speaks. 

“Alright then,”’ he smiles, turning to Beth. “Should we get you dressed and out of here?” 

Beth frowns. “Uh–”

“We’ll step out for a moment,” Rich suggests, nudging Ben out into the hall. 

Beth frowns at the physio suspiciously, though Viv doesn’t seem bothered that he’s about to be intimately involved in getting her partner dressed. 

“I’m just here to walk you through it,” he reassures her. “I can even turn my back, so long as you promise if anything starts going wrong or if you feel off balance, you say so straight away. Then I’ll help get you in a safe position. Okay?”

She nods. 

It’s a bit awkward. A bit cumbersome. She can get her underwear sorted, just by wriggling around in the bed. And she gets her sweats on by having Viv help thread her feet through the holes, then hold her steady while she stands and tugs them all the way up. 

Her top is where things really get complicated. They’d quickly found out yesterday that whenever Beth closes her eyes, she tips over if her hands aren’t touching something solid. And it’s a decent bet that the same will apply when her vision is obstructed by a shirt going over her head. 

“Alright,” the physio coaches, standing behind Beth so all he can see is her bare back through the gown. “I’m here if you start falling, but otherwise, I’ll stay back here.”

“You can’t see anything, right?” She asks, glancing over her shoulder. 

“No,” he confirms. “Just your back. Nothing else.”

“Mkay,” she says, though it’s clear she’s not entirely convinced. 

“Come on, lieverd,” Viv coaxes, placenta hand on Beth’s shoulder to get her to turn back around and face her. “Let’s do this so we can get you home, okay?”

“Okay,” she nods. 

They struggle for a bit as Viv helps get her hospital gown off, then struggles to put Beth’s normal sports bra on, awkwardly feeding her arms through the holes and fighting her to get it pulled over her head. 

“Jesus-” she huffs, trying to tug on it. “Can’t we just leave this off?”

“No!” Beth squawks indignantly. 

“Lief, it’s just me–”

“And my dad and brother , Viv! I’m not– you know how I feel about not wearing a bra!” 

“Okay, okay,” she placates, sighing. “It’s just– this thing is so bloody tight! You’re sure you don’t have a normal one–”

“This is my normal one!” 

“Okay,” Viv sighs. “Alright. I just– I’m not sure how to–”

“Oh my god , Viv,” Beth grumbles, batting her hands away as she gets it stuck around her elbows for the third time. “Can’t I just do it?”

“No! I’m–”

“It would actually probably be easier if she did,” the physio cuts in, meeting Viv’s eyes with a kind smile over the back of Beth's head. “It’s just the bit where it’s going over her head that will make her off balance. But you could probably just keep hold of her while she does it, to make sure she doesn’t fall. There’s no reason she shouldn’t have the coordination to put it on herself.”

Viv flushes, awkwardly letting go and moving back as Beth looks up at her with an expression that can only be read as a very adamant I-told-you-so . “Right. Sorry.”

Beth grumbles something under her breath that Viv doesn’t catch, tugging the sports bra up her arms to her shoulders with practiced ease, ready to duck her head through the hole like normal. She nearly does it on reflex, only pausing briefly when Viv gasps and lurches for her, ducking awkwardly to grab her by the waist. She gets it over her head and settled without much issue, shooting Viv a slightly haughty look. 

“Yes, okay,” she sighs. “I get it. You can do it yourself.”

“Shirt, please,” Beth chirps, grinning as she holds her hand out. This time, Viv sits on the bed next to her, a hand on Beth’s upper back, the other on her stomach to keep her steady. There’s a bit of a wobble as Beth’s vision is obstructed, but Viv redirects her with gentle hands, and she manages to get it over her head with relatively minimal tugging at her scars or hair, too.

Once her clothes are set the way she wants, after a few seconds of fussing at them, Beth turns to Viv and pats her on the knee decisively. 

“Mkay,” she nods, as if to herself. “Time to go.” Then she pushes to her feet, putting a hand on the wall as Viv scurries to get upright and hook her arm through Beth’s. 

“Thanks, baby,” she says, releasing the wall to hold onto Viv as they move carefully for the door. The physio follows after them, helping maneuver Beth into the wheelchair they have waiting while Ben darts inside to grab the abandoned bag. 

“Off we go then, darling?” Rich asks, squeezing Beth’s shoulder.

She nods once, a sharp bob of her head as she stares determinedly towards the locked doors of the ward. “Yup. Get me out of here.”

Chapter Text

It’s not until she’s seated in the back of the car next to Viv, leaning back against the headrest that she realises how dizzy she is. It must be from all the movement - they’d gone rather fast in the wheelchair she’d been put in, and then transferring to the car had just been a lot for her brain, after being almost completely still for nearly two weeks. 

She keeps it to herself as they start the car, hoping the trip will be relatively short. It should be - they’re not that far from the hospital, afterall. 

“Good, lief?” Viv asks, resting her hand on Beth’s knee nervously.

“Mhm.”

“Beth–”

“Mm?”

“Your safety belt, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” she blinks, opening her eyes and searching clumsily for the belt. She’s woozy enough that getting the clip fastened is damn near impossible, like trying to slot a key in a hole after a night of drinking. She stares at it, her hand trembling slightly–

“I’ve got it,” Viv says softly, reaching out to take it from her. She secures it with a soft click , then rearranges the strap to rest comfortably across Beth’s body. “Okay,” she says to Beth’s dad. “We’re all set back here.” 

Her dad drives carefully, all things considered. He’s very gentle with the brakes, takes turns at approximately half the speed he normally might. He accelerates slowly enough that at least three cars blow the horn at him impatiently before they even make it to the long stretch of road that will lead them back to St. Albans. 

But even with all of that, the blur of the passing landscape is nauseating. The whizzing of trees and grass past her eyes mixed with the slight swaying of the car over the slightly winding road has her feeling hot. She’d tried closing her eyes, to see if not looking out the window would help, but she’d immediately gotten jostled and had to throw a hand out towards the door for balance. 

“Beth?” Viv asks worriedly, her voice low and close to her ear. “Are you okay?” 

“Mhm,” she nods, then goes still as the nausea rises again from the slight movement of her head. “Fine.” She can feel Viv’s hand stretched across her back to reach for her shoulder, and the other on her thigh, steadying her, but she’s a bit busy trying not to be sick to react at all. 

Viv watches her carefully, frowning as Beth closes her eyes, going a bit green. She keeps a good grip on her, catching her a few times as she goes careening toward the window with her eyes closed. 

“Beth–”

“I’m fine,” she says again, taking a few deep breaths in and out through her nose. “I’m fine. Just… I’m carsick,” she mumbles. 

Viv ducks down by her feet, somehow seemingly plucking a sick bucket from midair. “Here,” she says, putting it in Beth’s lap. “Just in case.”

Beth offers her a grateful grimace, then squeezes her eyes shut as the trees whizz by behind Viv’s head. “Thanks.”

There’s a soft shuffle as Viv slides closer, stretching an arm behind Beth’s back to hold her close, either to comfort her or to physically steady her so she doesn’t go careening over - it’s not entirely clear to Beth which. 

“Almost there, baby,” she murmurs, her lips moving against Beth’s temple. “Almost there.” 

By the time they pull in the drive, Beth is breathing hard through her nose, fighting rising bile. She holds it together alright, blinking her eyes open slowly when she feels Viv’s presence disappear from her side, the air suddenly colder. She hears more than sees her climb out the door, then rush around the car to open Beth’s door and help her to her feet. 

She manages to stay upright for about five seconds, the change in position proves to be too much as she stumbles and doubles over. 

Viv catches her around the waist with a soft grunt, making sure she doesn’t go collapsing headlong into the grass at the side of the drive. 

“Easy–”

“I’m fine, Viv,” Beth snaps, even as she heaves at the pressure of Viv’s arms around her stomach. “Go.”

“It’s okay–”

“Get off , Viv–”

“I’m holding you up right now, lieverd,” she says gently, her voice slightly apologetic. ”I can’t really let you go.”

“I’m going to be sick,” she protests weakly, batting at Viv’s hands like it will do anything to change the situation she’s found herself in. 

“That’s okay,” Viv reassures her, switching her grip so she’s got Beth balanced over one arm, rubbing her back in soft circles with her free hand. “You can be sick.”

After a solid five minutes of heaving in the shrubbery, Beth manages to stand upright, at which point, the world promptly spins in five consecutive circles, leaving Beth slumped against Viv’s chest, yet against held up through absolutely no effort of her own. 

“That’s okay,” Viv whispers, letting Beth take a few gasping breaths against her chest. “We’ll just take a minute–”

“Viv–”

“It’s alright, we’ll just stand here for a minute–”

Beth cuts her off with a tug on her shirt, her fist tangled in the fabric by her shoulder. “Viv,” she pleads softly. “I don’t– I don’t think I can get inside.”

“Okay,” she answers, shifting in front of Beth. “Arms around my neck then, lief.” She guides her arms up over her shoulders, waiting until Beth’s got them locked around her neck, then stoops and hoists Beth up off the ground, helping her lock her ankles in place around her back. Viv’s got her own arms wrapped entirely around Beth’s body, locking her in before she starts taking gentle, steady steps. 

Beth keeps her face tucked in the crook of Viv’s neck, trying to focus on the familiar smell of her, instead of the nausea from so much movement. The swaying from the stairs worsens her dizziness, and she’s swallowing hard by the time they make it into their flat.  

“Uhm… bed or sofa, lieverd?” Viv asks, pausing awkwardly at the edge of the kitchen. 

“Toilet,” Beth says through gritted teeth. “Gonna be sick again.”

By the time the spinning settles, Beth’s been curled up on the bathroom floor with her back against the wall, periodically heaving into the toilet for the last ten minutes. Her head throbs from throwing up, and she can barely tolerate the light of the bathroom, even with her eyes closed. She’s squinting, when she’s got her eyes open, otherwise sitting with her forehead pressed against her knees, Viv’s hand rubbing slow circles over her back. 

“All done?” 

Beth shrugs weakly. 

“Let’s rinse your mouth out and get you in bed,” Viv suggests, thanking Rich as he appears with a glass of water. She helps Beth take a few sips, then whisks it away when she’s done. Slowly, carefully, she gets Beth to her feet, wrapping her in a hug. She picks her up off the ground, letting her legs dangle uselessly for the short few strides to the bed, then helps maneuver her onto it, gently settling her back into the pillows. She makes sure she’s in the middle, a bit concerned she might go rolling out without the rails from the hospital bed. When she’s satisfied she won’t go flopping onto the floor like a fish out of water, she creeps to the windows to shut the blinds and curtains, plunging them into darkness. 

“Do you need anything else?” She whispers, carefully brushing Beth’s hair back out of her face. Her voice is coming from somewhere vaguely above Beth, though she doesn’t remember feeling her crawl into bed. 

“Head hurts,” she mumbles miserably. 

“Okay,” Viv whispers. “I’ll get your medicine.” She disappears for a moment before coming back with a pill and a small glass of water. She just barely manages to sit Bet up to take it without making her sick, then lays her back down. “Okay. Anything else?”

Beth hums her denial quietly. 

“Okay. Sick bucket’s right here if you need it,” Viv says, setting it next to her. “And please do not get up without me.”

“Won’t get up at all,” Beth rasps. 

“Good,” Viv says softly, rearranging some of the loose pillows around Beth so she’s got a bit of a cradle, and something to stop her from climbing or rolling out. “I’ll just be in the den. I’ll close the door, so it’s quiet, but I’m going to check on you a lot, okay?” 

“Wait,” Beth mumbles, reaching out blindly. “Don’t go.”

“I– okay,” Viv says, surprise coloring her voice. 

“Lay with me? Please?”

“Sure, baby,” Viv agrees, whispering something into the den before shutting the door and climbing into the bed next to Beth. She slides up next to her, moving the pillows to be able to curl close as Beth lays on her back, unmoving. “The medicine should kick in soon,” she whispers, her hand resting heavy on Beth’s hip. 

She nods, almost imperceptibly, resting her hand over Viv’s, holding her elbow with the other, like she’s afraid Viv might slip away. Or like she’s afraid she might, without Viv there to anchor her. 

Beth sleeps into the late afternoon. She wakes up briefly at Viv’s insistence for a bit of toast and more medication before she goes back to bed, Viv packing pillows on either side of her again, just in case she goes rolling around before slipping out of the room. 

Ben and Rich are on the sofa, and they glance up worriedly when she appears through the door. “She okay?” 

Viv nods, blowing out a long breath. “Getting sick hurt her head earlier, and I think the medicine makes her tired. She’s sleeping again.”

“No car trips for her, then,” Ben muses with a grimace. 

Viv nods her agreement, flopping herself into the corner of the sofa, sighing as Myle immediately crawls onto her chest, laying against her. 

“Hi, baby,” she whispers, dropping a kiss to her head. 

She whines softly, nosing at Viv’s face, wriggling around in little circles, trying to find a place to lay comfortably.

“I know,” Viv whispers, petting her gently. “I know. Mummy didn’t say hi yet. But she will. Promise.” 

She seems to accept that alright, finally settling down halfway between Viv’s chest and her stomach, her head turned towards the door. She waits patiently, watching carefully for any sign of Beth until finally the gentle rhythm on Viv’s hands lull her to sleep, one ear twitching softly at any noise coming from the direction of the bedroom.

Chapter Text

Beth wakes up groggy, her head still throbbing, a slight pounding at her temple. She resists the urge to reach for it, instead blinking her eyes open slowly. 

It’s pitch dark, which is surprising. Normally there’s at least the light of the monitors, or the beams spilling in through the blinds from outside. The hospital is always bright at night, floodlights illuminating the streets below her window. 

But here, it’s dark. Not a single flash of brightness to be found. There’s the barest of flickers coming in under the door if she squints, which she imagines is just from nurses walking by outside during the night shift. It must be late, for it to be so quiet. So she shifts, grabbing one of the pillows to hold against her chest, as a poor substitute for Viv. There’s lots of pillow here, still smelling faintly of– Viv’s shampoo and her perfume. And– maybe a bit of something slightly musty? Like the way the blanket that Myle claimed on the sofa smelled, no matter how many times Beth or Viv washed it. 

That’s nice, she thinks. Feels like a bit of home, in a way the hospital normally doesn't. Viv must’ve brought it to her today. And clothes – she’s actually wearing pants for the first time in weeks, the sheets not scratchy against her bare shins. She wiggles her toes a bit, enjoying the softness of the linen and the weight of the blankets before abruptly opening her eyes, staring into the dark again.

The door is in the wrong place. It’s on the left, instead of the right. And there’s– the bed is way too big. And there’s no handles–

“Viv?” She calls, suddenly panicked. “Vivi?”

Her breath catches, and she feels frozen in the bed. She’d got to be dreaming. Viv would be here if she were home. She shouldn’t be gone this late at night. She would be here, which means this isn’t real and Beth– she can’t get herself to wake up.

“Vivianne!” 

The name comes out thin and trembling, leaving a sort of thumping in Beth’s ears which she supposes is probably her heartbeat. God, is it really that fast? It feels like she’s sprinting–

“Beth?” Viv calls, her face pinched with worry as she flicks on the lights, letting the door slam hard against the stop, rattling on the hinges. “Beth? What’s wrong? What– what happened? Did you fall? Are you going to be sick? You didn’t get up, did you–”

A sort of sharp, short sound fills Beth’s ears, making her flinch, but she sighs as a weight settles onto the bed. 

“Viv,” she sighs, her fear suddenly subsiding, though the confusion is still there. “You’re here.”

She’s leaning over her now, her hands tracing over Beth’s face and shoulders, down her arms as she looks between her face and the rest of her, like she might be able to figure out what’s going on just by glancing at her. “Lief? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“No, I–” she breathes, catching Viv’s hand while trying to awkwardly sit upright. That sound is still happening, sharp and piercing, stabbing into Beth’s head. 

“You what? Is it your head? I need you to tell me what’s wrong, baby, I don’t–”

“Nothing,” she cuts in, glancing around. “God, what is that noise– ”

“Myle!” Viv snaps, turning just over her shoulder. “Shh!” 

Beth blinks, leaning over to peer down at the ground by the side of the bed. She gasps delightedly, sprawling out on her side. “Myle! Come here, baby!”

With a sharp yip - which Beth now recognizes as the sound that had been piercing her eardrums moments ago - Myle leaps onto the bed, her whole body wiggling fiercely with excitement as soon as she gets close enough for Beth to touch her. She heads straight for her face, nosing and licking at her, whining softly in little pitiful whimpers even as Beth laughs and splutters.

“Myle, no ,” Viv says sternly, scooping under her belly to drag her away, holding her to her chest as she fights to free herself. 

“Viv!” Beth gasps, glowering at her. “She was just saying hi!”

“She can’t lick your head, Beth–”

“She missed me! She just wants to see me!”

“I know, baby. But she’s not allowed–”

“She is! ” Beth insists irritably. “Give her back!”

“Lief–”

“You’ve had her the whole time! I just want to say hi!”

Viv closes her eyes, clearly a bit overwhelmed. “Beth. You have fresh incisions, she can’t–”

“She won’t!”

“She was ,” Viv interrupts. “And anyway, I need you to tell me what’s wrong!”

Beth glares. “Nothing’s wrong, besides that you took her!”

“You were just shouting–”

“I just–” she blinks slowly, trying to remember. “I was just confused. When I woke up. Forgot I was home, and I– it freaked me out.”

Viv gives her an achingly soft look. “You came home today, remember? You didn’t do so well with the car, so you’ve had to take your medicine a couple of times, and you’ve been sleeping.”

Beth nods, though she doesn’t entirely remember that. 

“Are you sure that was all?” Viv asks, still holding a wriggling Myle back as she studies Beth intently. “You’re okay?”

She thinks for a moment, closing her eyes to take stock. “Uhm– my head hurts a little still, but it’s not too bad. And I’m– I think I need help sitting up,” she mumbles, flopping over somewhat awkwardly. “I’m just– sort of–”

“Off balance,” Viv finishes for her, already leaning over to help haul her into a sitting position, propping her up against the pillows, all while holding the dog in one arm. “There. How’s that?”

Beth nods, squinting. “Uhm–”

“Sorry,” Viv says, already moving for the door, dimming the lights. “Sorry. Too bright. You just– you were screaming, and–”

“Can I have her now?” Beth interrupts, holding her arms out with her gaze locked on Myle. “You stole her. I want her back.”

Viv sighs, though there’s a slight quirk to her lips that shows her amusement. “Okay,” she agrees, setting Myle carefully in her lap. “But she can’t lick your head.”

“Just my scars,” Beth counters, already letting Myle climb her chest with her front paws, stretching to lick her cheek and jaw. “The rest of me is fine.”

Viv releases a long-suffering breath. “Fine. But we’re going to have to wash you off. I don’t want germs getting anywhere near your cuts.”

Beth ignores her completely, entirely absorbed in Myle. She cradles her, then scratches her back and holds her paws, making her do a little dance in her lap. “How’s my baby, hm? Did you miss me? Are you so happy I’m home? Are you gonna sleep in the bed with me and Mama? Hm? With Mummy and Mama, in the same bed?” She coos, pressing little kisses to her snout. 

Myle wiggles furiously, making quiet little whimpering sounds of excitement. She spins in circles whenever Beth releases her for more than half a second, and Viv actually finds herself a bit grateful she doesn't have much of a tail to whack Beth in the head with, anymore. 

“I missed you ,” Beth murmurs, flipping the dog over onto her back to tickle her belly, letting her gnaw playfully at her fingers the way she did when she was a baby. “I missed you so much. Mhm. I did! I really did!”

Despite her worry, Viv finds herself smiling, leaning further onto the bed to stretch out by Beth’s hip, reaching a hand out to wiggle Myle’s paw, making her wave. “She did miss you,” she answers, speaking with her cheek pressed against Beth’s arm. “She slept right here with me, every night. And she’d always look for you when I got home. And she slept on your pillow the whole time. I tried washing it, but–”

“It still sort of smells like her,” Beth finishes. “That’s okay. I think it’s nice.”

Viv smiles up at her, eyes soft but rimmed with red, the area beneath them shining purple in the lamp light. 

“You look tired,” Beth observes, carefully tracing the bags under Viv’s eyes with her thumb, even as her other still pets the dog absently. 

She shrugs. “I am, a bit.”

“What time is it?” Beth asks, glancing around. “Why hadn’t you come to bed yet?”

Viv glances at her watch. “It’s seven,” she answers. “Your dad and Ben went to get dinner. It’s not really bedtime.”

“Oh,” Beth blinks, just processing the fact that it is actually rather light outside in the living room.

“It’s really dark in here,” Viv supplies. “And you’ve sort of been asleep all day.”

“Oh,” she says again, her face falling. “I was hoping– I dunno. I wanted to do more, for my first day home.”

Viv offers her a sad smile, brushing her lips over her upper arm again, just below her shoulder. “I know. But the trip home took a lot out of you.”

“Can I– can I come out to the sofa? Sit out there, maybe?” 

Viv frowns seriously, considering. “Let me just dim the lights, and turn the telly off, okay?”

“It’s fine–”

“I don’t want to bother your head, lief,” she says softly, pushing herself upright. “We’ll just be careful about it for now, alright?”

Beth sighs. “Okay. Fine.”

“Be right back,” Viv whispers, ducking to kiss her head. “Don’t go anywhere without me.”

Beth nods, bowing back over Myle distractedly. “Your mama’s a worrier, did you know that?” She whispers, grinning innocently when Viv turns around with a half-hearted glare. 

Myle lets out a soft whine, stretching to try to give Beth more kisses. 

“That’s right,” Beth murmurs, grinning. “She is . She really, really is.”

Chapter Text

“Am I allowed out now?” Beth calls to her, still sitting on the bed as Viv bangs around in the den.

“Hang on,” she calls back, rushing. “Hang on, I’ll help–”

“I can get out of bed alone, Viv,” she grumbles, already moving to swing her legs over the side as Viv reappears around the doorway. 

“You said you wouldn’t get up without me!” She frets, already reaching out to catch her before she’s completed the motion. 

Beth huffs in annoyance, but pauses. When Viv gets close enough, she takes her hands, tugging herself to the edge of the bed, then lets go. Viv’s hands find her waist, holding firm to steady her as she gets to her feet. She waits, not moving back even when Beth gives her a little impatient nudge. She just presses Beth between her own body and the bed for a moment, waiting for any dizziness to pass.

“Good?” She finally asks, when Beth stops wobbling in her arms. 

“Mhm,” she answers impatiently, letting go of Viv’s arms in favor of dropping them by her sides - a clear dismissal. 

“Okay,” Viv breathes, shifting slightly to the side. She keeps a hand hovering over Beth’s spine, ready to catch her if she stumbles, but she doesn’t touch. She just trails behind her as Beth huffs irritably, making her way to the corner Viv had occupied moments ago.  

“Dad and Ben went for food?” She asks, settling down amongst the squashed pillows and haphazardly placed blanket. 

Viv nods her agreement, stooping low to lift Myle off the floor and into Beth’s lap before she tries to do it herself, then takes a seat at her girlfriend’s feet quietly. 

“We need to take her out,” Beth says abruptly, still petting the dog. “Before dinner.”

“I already did. While you were sleeping - I took her for a long walk and let her run around for a while. And your dad tossed her ball around out back earlier.”

“Oh.”

Viv winces at Beth’s obvious disappointment, but reaches forward to scratch at Myle’s bum anyway, letting her fingers just barely brush Beth’s. “She missed you,” she tries. “Maybe she just wants a cuddle.”

Beth purses her lips, her eyes locked on her lap, but agrees anyway, letting Myle curl up on her chest, resting calmly beneath her hands.

A long silence stretches between them, the tension in it seeping into Viv’s very bones. 

“Do you need anything?” She finally asks, shifting nervously. 

Beth shakes her head, still avoiding her gaze. “No, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? I could– I dunno. I could make tea or… do you want some water, maybe? You’re not really supposed to have caffeine, so–”

Beth huffs. “I’m good , Viv.” 

She goes still, nodding hesitantly. “Okay. Sorry, just–”

“Let’s just watch something,” Beth says tightly, leaning forward for the remote. 

Viv moves out of habit, laying a hand over Beth’s before she can get there. Beth cuts a heated glare in her direction, and it takes a fair amount of effort not to flinch. “You’re supposed to be on brain rest, remember?”

“It’s just a series, Viv–”

“You’re not supposed to, baby,” she warns, as gently as she can. “The doctor said.” 

Beth rolls her eyes, falling silent as she turns her attention back to Myle, effectively ignoring Viv sitting at her feet. 

So Viv sits, wracking her brain for something to say that won’t piss Beth off, but she comes up empty. So empty, in fact, that not a single word passes between the two of them for the quarter hour it takes Rich and Ben to return, carrying the bags of takeaway between them. 

Viv’s up and off the sofa as soon as the doorknob turns, earning slightly confused looks from Ben and Rich. 

“You okay?” Ben asks, speaking quietly enough as he stands next to her that only Viv can hear. 

She nods, biting her lip. 

“Viv?” Rich asks, setting a stack of plates on her other side. His hand finds her shoulder, supportive and patient, though Viv knows she won’t get away without answering. 

She nods again, busying herself opening containers and dishing out plates for everyone. “It’s fine,” she mutters, turning her back to Beth to pull silverware out of the drawer. “She’s just frustrated.”

Rich’s eyes alight on Beth, who’s been distracted by Ben under the guise of asking what she’d like to drink. “Do I need to–”

“No,” Viv says firmly, cutting him off. “No, don’t.” 

“Viv–”

“Please don’t,” she whispers, setting down the forks with a clatter as they slip in her trembling grip. 

Rich gathers them up again, giving Viv’s fingers a gentle squeeze. And then he’s gone, meandering off towards the sofa with a plate in each hand. 

Viv brings the other two over, setting her own down on the side table before taking Myle off Beth’s lap to set her gently on the floor. She hands Beth her plate, a napkin, and a fork - which she takes without a word - then turns and hurries to the kitchen to put Myle’s food in her bowl, using the pitcher to refill her water, too. 

When she makes it back to the sofa, taking the place at Beth’s right, Ben’s broken the silence. 

“How’s the head?” He asks, keeping his vice low. 

Beth shrugs, stabbing a piece of veg on her fork. “Okay. A bit sore still. But not too bad.”

“Are you still dizzy? Tired?” Her dad tacks on. 

“I’m okay.”

He looks at her for a minute, like he’s not entirely sure if he believes her, then glances briefly at Viv. Beth turns, but doesn’t catch the look that passes between the two of them before her dad nods and tucks in to his own meal. 

It’s pretty quiet while they eat. There’s really just the scrape of forks against plates and chewing amongst the glances. 

Beth hardly looks up from her plate, picking steadily at her food. She manages about a third of It, then leans forward and slides it across the coffee table, wincing at the scrape of ceramic on wood. 

Viv’s hand finds her shoulder and she slides forward to sit even with her. “Beth? You okay?” 

“Mm,” she nods, breathing hard through her nose. 

“Do you need something?” She asks. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” Beth mutters, settling back further and closing her eyes. “Just putting my plate down.”

Viv’s stomach clenches as she looks back at the plate, still mostly full. “Are you done?” 

Beth nods, her eyes still closed. 

Viv frowns, reaching out toward the table. “Can you try to have a bit more, do you think? You haven’t eaten all day–”

“I’m full, Viv,” she answers. 

“Just a bit more–

Beth opens her eyes, giving Viv a look that makes her stomach sour. “I’m done.”

“Are you okay? Do you need medicine? Or help to the toilet–”

Beth shakes her head, promptly going green as she sucks in a breath through her nose. She reaches out blindly for Viv’s hand, squeezing her fingers hard . “Just done eating,” she manages. “M’fine.”

Viv stares at her. “Are you sure?”

“M’fine,” Beth says again. 

“Okay,” she sighs. “Alright. Just… let me know, okay? If you need something?”

“Mhm.”

It’s only about five minutes later - during which time, Viv’s eyes never leave Beth - that she sits up again, swinging her legs over the side of the sofa.

“Beth?”

“Feel sick,” she manages, pushing to her feet unsteadily. 

Viv barely has time to slide her own plate off her lap and onto the cushions beside her before she stands, pulling Beth into her side to steady her. She practically drags her towards the bathroom, Beth fighting her and leaning against her in equal measure. 

“Viv–” Beth groans, her stomach clenching under Viv’s hand.

Viv curses under her breath, pulling Beth through the door to the bathroom and abruptly pushing her sideways. She just barely manages to have her leaning over the sink before she’s half-collapsed over the countertop, heaving violently. Viv winces, balancing Beth with one arm wrapped around her chest from behind, reaching blindly for a towel with the other.

She waits, still holding Beth up as she lurches, alternating between smoothing her hair away from her face and rubbing her back soothingly. After a long few moments, the heaving slows, and the tension leaves Beth's body all at once. She breathes shakily in Viv's arms, her whole body trembling. Viv can see in the mirror that her eyes are screwed shut, her hands clenched into fists. She leans in close, rearranging Beth in her arms slightly. “Done?” She whispers, as quiet as she can manage. 

Beth manages a single nod, gritting her teeth against what Viv assumes to be a wave of agony blasting through her skull.

"Just gonna clean you up a bit, baby," she explains, wetting the towel. She runs it over Beth's face, then helps her rinse her mouth out a couple of times, wiping the stray water away with her thumb. 

“Bed?” She asks, just as soft. 

Beth just barely dips her chin this time. 

“Okay,” Viv breathes, sliding her arms around Beth’s waist. She maneuvers around to face her, balancing Beth between herself, the wall, and the countertop. She ducks a bit, then scoops her up as gently as she can manage, cradling her as she crosses as delicately as possible back to the bed. She sets Beth in it, leaving her leaning up against the headboard and pillows for a moment, placing the sick bucket in her lap. “I’m going to get your medicine. I’ll be right back,” she whispers, waiting a beat before walking away. As she passes it, she flicks off the lights and shuts the door, moving as silently in the bathroom as possible to avoid slamming any cabinets or drawers, or rattling Beth’s pills around. She gives her two - one for pain, one for nausea - then settles her down in bed again, leaving her slightly propped against pillows this time for fear she might be sick again. She leaves the bucket in her lap, perching silently on the edge of the mattress.

“Is there anything else I can do?” She whispers. 

Beth hardly answers, just presses her lips into a thin line, then silently mouths no .

“I’m going to clean up the bathroom,” she tells her gently. “Do you want me to come back after? Lay with you?”

Beth manages a tiny shake of her head, her brow furrowing with pain. 

“Okay,” Viv breathes. “Yell if you need me. I’ll be right outside.” She waits for some sort of reaction for a few seconds, slowly easing herself off the bed when none comes. 

The process of cleaning the bathroom is almost meditative. She has to move slowly, run the water as little as possible to try not to disturb Beth at all. She works by the flashlight of her phone, concerned that the light coming through under the bathroom door might be too much. She spends a while on her knees on the floor, using the wet cloth to clean the tiles, and a while longer clearing out the sink. When she's finally done, she washes her hands the best she can and grabs a clean shirt off the dresser as she sneaks through the bedroom. She carefully opens the door, using the light from the living room that illuminates Beth to make sure she’s sleeping peacefully, then closes it softly behind her. 

Ben and Rich are cleaning up in the kitchen, and both look at her worriedly as she reappears. 

“She’s okay,” she whispers. “Sleeping.”

Rich nods, but Ben just frowns at her, letting his eyes slide up and down. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly.

She nods. “Yeah. Just need to wash my hands.”

He looks at her like she’s started lost her mind. “Uh… I think you’re gonna need more than that.”

Viv frowns, following his gaze. She pulls her shirt away from her body, sighing when she catches sight of the sick covering her clothes. “Fuck.”

Rich winces sympathetically. “Why don’t you go take a shower, Viv? We’ll–”

“Can’t,” she says a bit curtly. “Beth’s sleeping. It's too loud.”

“Go use the one by our rooms,” he suggests gently.

Viv shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He asks, coming around the island to stand closer, valiantly not wrinkling his nose when he catches a whiff of her. 

“She might need me,” she says, gesturing vaguely toward the bedroom. “And if this is what I look like, then she’s got to be–” she hisses, jamming the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Fuck. And now the bed– but I can’t wake her up–”

“We’ll keep an eye on her, sweetheart,” he says gently, laying a hand on her back. “You go get cleaned up.”

“But she–”

“Nothing to be done right now,” he says. “Let’s just wait for her to wake up, then we’ll get her changed and put new sheets on.”

“But–”

“Viv, love,” he says, a bit more firmly. “Go take a minute to yourself, get cleaned up. You’ll feel better. And Ben and I can handle whatever she needs. And if that’s you, then you’re just down the hall. But there’s no sense in you sitting around here like that while she’s sleeping.”

Viv sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I just–”

“I know,” he says gently, moving his hand in gentle circles on her back. “I know. But we’re here to help. You don’t have to do it all alone. Okay?” 

Viv nods, biting her lip against the sudden swell of emotion in her chest as her eyes start to water. She blinks, holding herself painfully still in an effort not to cry. Her throat burns and she swallows hard, staring down at her feet to avoid looking at her father in law. 

Rich just smiles gently at her, giving her a nudge down the hall as he guides her towards the bathroom. “Go take a minute,” he says gently. “We’ve got her. I promise. We won’t let anything happen while you’re gone.”

Chapter Text

Viv numbly makes her way to the bathroom at the back of the flat, leaning up against the door as soon as she shuts it behind her. She stares at herself in the mirror, face blank. 

It takes a moment for her to remember to turn on the water, to fetch a fresh towel from where they store them in the cabinet under the sink. And then it takes her a minute to strip out of her clothes, trying not to drag her shirt over her face and hair. 

She stands for beat, staring down at the pile of clothes on the floor. She doesn’t have any clean ones. She didn’t grab any, and now she’s going to have to go digging around in her drawers in just a towel, somehow without waking Beth up. And when she does inevitably rouse her, she’s going to have to coax her out of bed for long enough to change the sheets, wash her up, change her clothes, and get her ready for bed. And then she’ll have to hope that Beth isn’t so annoyed with her after that she’s still willing to share a bed with her. And that her headache is improved enough that Viv won’t be worried about sleeping next to her. 

The thoughts rattle around inside her head as she sticks a hand in to test the water temperature, hissing at the heat that scalds her palm. She adjusts it, testing again, then steps in. 

She hasn’t been in this bathroom in a long time. Not since Lisa still lived here and they moved into the back bedroom during renovations, and then never moved out. Well - Viv had. When they’d broken up, Lisa had slept in their old bedroom and Viv had moved into the main bedroom, which she now shares with Beth. 

Or shared with Beth, before. She hasn’t shared it with her in a while. Might not again for quite some time, either. If ever, she thinks bitterly. 

Water drips from soaked tendrils of hair in rivulets as she stares down at the floor, watching the water circle the drain. She shivers, though not from cold and sinks slowly down, sitting on the ground with her knees tucked up to her chest. She turns the water hotter, relishing the slight sting on the skin of her back as she curls over herself, the way steam collects in the cage of her arms as she rests her forehead on her knees. She closes her eyes, the patter of water droplets along her head eerily reminiscent of the way Beth’s fingers used to comb through her hair when she was asleep. The heat on her back suddenly feels like Beth’s when she would curl around her at night. 

It feels like it’s been years since she last felt that. 

It feels like she might never feel it again. 

Everything she does is wrong. 

She can’t fix Beth’s head. She can’t make her remember that Viv’s just trying to help when she grabs her wrist or won’t let her shower. She can’t make her patient or understanding. She can’t make her the old Beth. 

But the worst part is that the old Beth isn’t gone. Not entirely. 

The way she smiles at Viv sometimes, like on good days when she would first walk into the hospital room and Beth’s face would light up. That moment when she’d been doing physio and had walked into Viv’s arms for the first time in weeks for a hug, her face pressed into Viv’s chest the way it always did. The first day, when she’d held her as best she could while Viv cried in her lap, or the day she’d had Ben call her–

Those moments are the old Beth. Moments with Myle. Moments with Ben, moments with her dad. 

It’s just the moments with Viv that feel different. Changed. Altered. Like Beth loves her, but not enough . Not the way she used to. Like she loves her, but–  

But she’s too bossy. 

But she’s too loud. 

But she’s not what Beth needs. 

Viv knows that feeling. She knows what it’s like to be a good partner, but not good enough . Not perfect. At least not for the person she loves. 

She knows this feeling - the gnawing ache in her belly. The tension in her shoulders. The slight hesitation in everything she does because what if this is the thing that ruins it all? What if this is what makes them finally say they’ve had enough? 

What if the next time she grabs Beth’s wrist, or the next time she steadies her when she gets off balance, that’s the breaking point? The moment when Beth turns to her and says Viv, I love you, but–

I can’t do this. 

This isn’t working. 

I need some space. 

I just need some time to think. 

I just don’t think we’re what the other needs. 

She’s heard it every way imaginable. She’s thought of every way she might say it, what Beth’s face will look like when she finally reaches that conclusion. 

But even that she can’t even predict with much certainty. She doesn’t know this Beth, not the way she used to. She doesn’t know what will set her off, she doesn’t know how to navigate this. She doesn’t know how to talk to someone that suddenly forgets entire interactions that happened moments ago. 

She doesn’t know how to do this. 

How the fuck is she supposed to do this?

By the time her tears stop, the water has gone cold. Viv has to wash her hair and body as quickly as possible, shivering slightly in the chill. Her lips are nearly blue when she finally emerges, wrapped tightly in a towel, her skin covered in gooseflesh. She ignores the sinking in her gut, making her way quietly across the house, offering an awkward smile to Ben and Rich on the sofa as she emerges, leaving wet footprints down the hall.

“Forgot my clothes,” she explains, hoping they ignore her red eyes and the way her face is swollen and puffy.

Mercifully, they don’t comment. Beth’s dad just offers a gentle smile. “She was still sleeping a few minutes ago. I don’t think you’ll wake her.”

Viv nods, privately doubting that assessment, and lets herself into the bedroom, navigating in the dark over to their shared wardrobe. She opens the drawers by memory, feeling around for what she hopes is a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, which she puts on as quietly as possible. She towels off her hair, hanging it over her arm as she sneaks over to the bed, standing silently at the side, listening. 

It’s too dark to see, but Beth’s breathing seems even - slow and deep. She sits there, listening to the steady rhythm for longer than she cares to admit, the soft sound of it oddly soothing. 

But then it catches, and there’s a rustle as Beth takes a long breath, shifting in the sheets. Viv slides a hand towards her, wanting to be sure she’s not getting up. Her fingers brush Beth’s and she freezes, nearly jerking away. But Beth’s hand just twitches against hers and she shifts again with a little groan.

“Vivi?”

“Hey,” she whispers, keeping still. “I’m here.”

“Wha’ya doin?” She mumbles, rustling enough that Viv assumes she’s turning over in the direction of Viv’s voice.

“Just came to get dressed after my shower,” she answers quietly. 

“Mm. You coming to bed?” Beth asks, tugging lightly on Viv’s hand.

She freezes. “Uhm– I actually…. We probably need to get you up, lieverd.”

“Mm? S’late,” she grumbles. “M’sleeping.”

“I know,” Viv sighs. “I know. But you were sick earlier, and I think there might have been some I missed on you before I put you in the bed. It got on me, which is why I had to shower–”

Beth withdraws her hand, quiet for a moment before she lets out a soft sound of disgust. “Ugh, Viv–”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise–”

“Now it’s all in the bed!”

“I know,” she whispers. “I’m going to change the sheets, I just need to get you up, help you change–”

“I need a shower!” Beth protests, her tone slightly sharp. 

Viv closes her eyes, tilting her head back. “You can’t have a shower yet, lief,” she says with as much patience as she can muster. “Your scars are too fresh–”

“I’m covered in sick , Viv! I’m not laying around like this!” 

“I’m going to help you clean up,” she promises, sliding toward the top of the bed to reach for the bedside lamp. “We just can’t put you in the shower yet–”

“I don’t want you to help clean me up!” She snaps, her voice suddenly growing so close that Viv jerks back, narrowly missing colliding heads with her as Beth throws herself into a seated position. 

Viv presses her lips together, waiting for them to stop wobbling before she speaks. “I know you don’t, but you’re not steady enough to do it alone just yet–”

“Yes, I am , Viv!” She bites out, her tone loud enough to rattle her head. “God! You don’t have to be involved in everything– ” 

The door opens, a soft stream of light illuminating the two of them, Beth glaring in Viv’s direction as she leans away from her, eyes glassy. They both look to the door, finding the silhouette of Beth’s dad, his hand still on the doorknob.

“Everything okay, girls?”

“Yeah,” Viv answers quickly, hiding the shake in her voice pretty well. “Yeah. We just– Beth wants to get cleaned up.”

“Okay,” Rich says easily. “Lights coming on, sweetheart,” he warns, then flicks the switch to bathe the room in soft yellow light from the lamps. 

She still squints, wincing a bit at the brightness. 

“Beth,” he says, taking a few steps into the room. “Why don’t you come pick what clothes you want, and then go into the bathroom with Viv to get washed up. I know you don’t want the help, but we’d all feel a lot better if someone was there to keep an eye on you, at least. And I don’t think you want me or your brother doing that bit, do you?” 

Beth purses her lips unhappily, crossing her arms over her chest, but doesn’t argue. 

“Come on,” he says, offering his hand. “Pick your clothes, then go with Viv. Ben and I will take care of the bed.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Viv,” he interrupts. “It’s late, you two need rest. And this isn’t the first time I’ve helped clean up her sick,” he says ruefully. “I’m her father. It’s not a problem.”

Beth grumbles, taking her dad’s offered hand and slipping out of bed onto the floor, rocking a bit as she adjusts to the new position. Rich steadies her, silently watching her face until Beth blinks a few times in rapid succession and nods decisively. He lets her walk towards the wardrobe unaccompanied, which nearly sends Viv into a full blown panic attack, but she does fine - steadying herself once on the end of the bed on the way. At the dresser, she keeps a hand on top as she opens each drawer, Viv hovering anxiously at her side. She nearly stops her from stooping, but a well-timed cough from Rich has her reconsidering, waiting until Beth straightens, frowning. 

“Can you get me my grey sweats, please?” She asks, looking at Viv with some frustration - but for the first time, it’s not about her, which is shocking enough that she stands there motionless for a moment. Finally, she nods and grabs the ones Beth directs her to, handing them to her. Beth gathers her little stack of clothes, tucking them neatly under one arm as she moves for the bathroom door, her free hand skating over furniture and walls for balance. Viv trails after her, her eyes darting from Beth to every nearby sharp corner and back again, over and over. And then they’re in the bathroom, Viv closing the door behind them as Beth leans up against the counter. 

“I want to wash off,” she says, looking at Viv with an expression that dares her to argue. “Properly. I feel disgusting. I haven’t washed up in weeks, and I don’t want you to suffocate in my stink cloud when you come to bed.”

Viv blinks. 

“I’m getting in the shower,” Beth announces, that same determined look on her face. When Viv opens her mouth to argue, she cuts her a challenging glance. “I’m not going to get my head wet. But I’m using the sprayer and washing off properly. But I’ll need help with my face so I can close my eyes and not tip over. And my legs and my back, too,” she says seriously. “Leaning down hurts my head right now.”

Viv just stares at her for a second, then nods. “Okay,” she says slowly. “Do you want me to get in with you, or…”

Beth glances her up and down. “Probably. But you might get wet–”

“I’ll just get undressed,” she says, locking the door. 

A small smile works its way over Beth’s face. “Okay,” she says, a little bit of a grin audible in her voice. “That works.”

Viv turns back towards her, raising an eyebrow. “That’s fine with you?” She asks, expecting a bit more of an argument. A bit more fussing, perhaps. 

Beth just keeps smiling in that strangely self-satisfied way, crossing her arms over her chest. “Mhm. But you first.”

“Me first what?” Viv asks. “I’ve already showered.”

Beth gives her a look that’s pure exasperation. “Get naked, liefie.”

Viv’s brain skitters to a halt and she looks at Beth for a moment.

“What?” She asks, still grinning. “I’m not allowed to look anymore?”

“No, I just– I dunno. I guess I thought– I didn’t think–”

Beth snorts, reaching out for the bottom edge of Viv’s top to tug it up, letting her fingers trail over her stomach. “I know we can’t do anything,” she murmurs, continuing to drag the shirt up Viv’s body until her head disappears beneath it, then re-emerges from the neckline. “But I don’t see why we can’t have a nice shower together. We always used to like that, right?” 

Viv takes a stuttering breath as Beth’s hands find her waist. “Yeah,” she stammers. “Yeah, we did.”

Beth shrugs, like she hasn’t just sent Viv’s whole… everything careening off course. “Good. Then we’ll do it now, too.”

Viv nods, swallowing hard. “Okay,” she croaks. “Uhm - you next,” she says softly, stepping forward to pin Beth between her and the countertop. “I can–” she starts, reaching for her hem, then hesitates, letting her hands fall to her hips instead, anchoring herself. “Do you want me to help?”

Beth’s lips stay curled in a soft smile and she shakes her head. “I think I’ll probably do a better job of keeping all of this off me,” she says, gesturing at her shirt. “You just make sure I don’t fall down, okay?”

Viv nods silently, her hands still resting at Beth’s hips as she wriggles out of her top and balls it up, dropping it on the floor by the door. 

“You might have to help with this bit,” Beth says, her hands resting over Viv’s. She slides them down to her waistband, pausing.

Viv waits, expecting some sort of direction, but Beth just looks at her, tilting her head with a slight frown.

“Vivi,” she asks, her voice painfully soft. “What’s wrong?” 

Viv shakes her head hard, blinking rapidly. “Nothing. Nothing, I’m just– I missed you, is all.”

Beth’s hand slides up her arm, finding her cheek. “I missed being home with you, too.”

Viv doesn’t correct her. She just nods, turning her face into Beth’s palm for a moment before returning to her task. 

Chapter Text

In the morning, the bed beside Beth is empty. 

She’s fairly certain it’s morning, anyway. There’s a bit of light peeking through the bottom of the curtains, leaving it just light enough that Beth can see. She sits up, rubbing her eyes, accidentally brushing her fingers over the shorn section of hair at her temple. She knows she’s not supposed to, but she spends a moment tracing her scars, feeling the ridged and puckered bits of skin that had been sewn back together just a couple of days ago. It’s slightly crusty, like something dried there, and it’s a bit sensitive, but not actually as bad as she’d been expecting. 

Come to think of it, her head actually feels okay today. No pounding at her temple, no ache behind her eyes. She swings her legs over the side of the bed, leaning back carefully on her hands so that if she does tip over, it’s backwards onto the mattress and not straight forward onto her face. She waits, but no bout of dizziness sweeps over her, and when she gingerly slides off onto the floor, her feet touch the carpet with hardly a thud . She stands easily, padding over to the door. 

Her dad and Viv are in the kitchen, both their heads swinging sharply towards Beth as the door clicks open. 

“Uh, hi,” she says, raising a hand. 

A brief expression that looks a lot like terror crosses Viv’s face, but clears just as fast with a quick glimpse in Beth’s dad’s direction. “Hi, lief,” she says softly, balling her hands in her sweatshirt as she sits at the countertop. “How are you feeling?”

Beth shrugs, shuffling forward sleepily. “Pretty good. My head doesn’t hurt. And I wasn’t even dizzy when I got up.”

That expression is back for a fleeting second, but this time, Beth thinks it looks a bit more like annoyance than fear. 

“That’s great, love,” her dad pipes up, smiling at her across the countertop. 

She smiles back, then looks between the two of them. “What are you two doing?”

“Just having a chat,” he says easily. 

“Mm. Where’s Ben? And Myle?”

“Out on a walk,” Viv answers, her voice especially quiet. 

Beth turns to frown at her where she’d been rooting around in a cabinet for a mug. “You okay, Vivi?”

Viv shifts a little in her seat, her eyes sliding around the room before she nods. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Did you not sleep well? When did you get up?” Beth asks. “I didn’t even hear you.”

“Early,” she answers. “Just couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to bother you.”

Beth hums distractedly, placing the mug down on the counter with her back to Viv. She patters around, pouring a cup of coffee, getting the milk out of the fridge and stirring it in, catching Viv’s eye a few times as she watches her. She raises an eyebrow at her, curious why she’s watching her so closely, but doesn’t get much of a response besides Viv breaking eye contact and folding her hands in her lap. 

“So what do we have on today?” She asks finally, leaning on the counter opposite Viv. 

Viv shrugs, her eyes locked on the mug. “You’ve got physio today. They’re coming by the house.”

“Oh, right,” she nods. “What time?”

“One.”

“Mm,” Beth nods, wrapping her hands around the hot ceramic. “We’ve got a while, then.”

Viv glances up, her eyes darting to Rich for a second before she looks down again. 

“Not too long,” Rich says easily. “Just over an hour. Enough time for lunch, if you’re hungry.”

Beth frowns, turning to the large clock on the wall, trying to make sense of the hands. The time doesn’t come to her the way it did before, so she turns to the stove, reading the numbers. “I slept that long?” 

Viv nods. “We had a late night. And you need your rest.”

Beth purses her lips unhappily. “You could have woken me up.”

Viv shakes her head, opening her mouth, but Rich cuts her off. 

“None of us feel too good about waking you up, darling,” he says kindly. 

“Why not?”
“Because you weren’t sleeping well at the hospital, and your body needs rest to heal. The more you sleep now, the quicker you’ll be feeling better.” 

Beth squints at him, but eventually sighs, admitting defeat. “Okay, fine. But I don’t like missing out on stuff!”

He chuckles fondly. “I know you don’t, love. But nothing’s really been happening.” 

“That’s not true,” she pouts. “Yous have gone on loads of walks without me.”

Rich nods, conceding her point. “Well, maybe you can come on those soon, if the physio says it’s okay.”

“I can go,” Beth says resolutely, straightening. “I feel good!”

Rich just offers a slightly amused smile. “I’m glad you feel good, sweetheart. But let’s let the professionals tell us the rules, hm? None of us are experts in this, so far as I’m aware.” 

Beth narrows her eyes at his teasing, but doesn’t outright argue. Instead, she looks back at Viv, who’s still being oddly quiet, staring at the cup in front of Beth, chewing at the corners of her fingers anxiously. 

Beth looks at it, expecting there to be a bug of some sort floating in it, or maybe coffee leaking all over the countertops, but there isn’t. It looks totally normal, as far as she can tell. “Do you want this, or something?” She finally asks, pointing at it. “Why are you staring at it like that?” 

Viv blinks, visibly shaken out of her thoughts. She puts her hands down slowly, glancing between Beth and her dad for a long few moments. Then she lets out a long sigh, looking at Beth with something akin to pain on her face. “I just– I’m not trying to nag you, but… it’s just that you’re not really–” she stammers. “Caffeine’s not really good for your head,” she finally manages, cringing at herself. 

Beth just stares at her for a moment, head tilted to the side like she’s trying to make sense of what Viv’s saying. “What?”

“You’re not supposed to have coffee,” Viv blurts out, balling her fists in her sleeves again. “The doctor said it’ll make your head hurt.”

“Oh,” Beth blinks, looking down. “Okay. Do you want it?” She offers, sliding it towards Viv. “I kind of made it out of habit, but I’m pretty sure you don’t mind how I make mine. Right?”

Viv nods warily, reaching out for the mug slowly, like Beth might snatch it away. “I don’t mind how you make it,” she confirms. 

“Okay, good,” Beth nods. “That’s yours, then.”

“Thanks,” Viv replies, her voice quiet. 

“Sure,” Beth says easily. “Hey - do we have bread?”

Viv nods warily. “Yeah. In the cabinet.”

Beth reaches for it, pulling it down with practiced ease, then tosses two slices onto the counter and ties the bag up again. She glances around for a minute, finds the toaster, and pops the bread in, fidgeting with the knobs for a moment. She hums quietly to herself, skating around the kitchen for butter and jam, a knife, a plate, and a napkin, then waits for the ding of the toaster bell. When she takes a bite, she catches Viv’s eye, freezing when she sees how she’s staring at her. “What?” She asks, voice garbled. “M’hungry.”

“Nothing,” Viv says, forcing herself to look away. “But uhm– now that you’re awake, you should probably take your meds.”

Beth frowns. “Wha’ meds?” She asks, taking another bite.

“You’ve got one for pain and one for nausea,” Viv answers. “But you’re supposed to take them together, ‘cause the pain one can make you sick if you haven’t got anything on your stomach.”

Beth hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think I need them right now. Is that fine?” 

Viv nods warily. “Yeah, you don’t… they're just there if you need them.”

“Mkay. Maybe later, then.”
 

Later ends up being about halfway through physio, where she’s being put through paces of walking around the house, climbing stairs, turning and bending and stooping. The increase in her heart rate alone is exhausting, but the way her brain starts to fog and her head starts to spin isn’t comfortable either. By the third time Beth tries to get up from kneeling on the floor, she flops down, laying on her back in the middle of the rug. 

“Beth?” The physio asks, moving towards her. “Everything okay?” 

“Don’t feel that good,” she manages, bringing a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose. 

“Okay. What’s bothering you?”

“Head’s starting to hurt,” she mumbles. “And feel kind of sick. Queasy, like.” 

“Have you taken your medicine today?” She asks.

Beth shakes her head, then goes abruptly still, pinching her nose. “No,” she answers, fighting the worst of the spinning sensation.

“Mm,” the physio hums, her voice sounding right above Beth. “Well, for future reference, it’s best to be pre-medicated for physio. It can help prevent things like this.”

“Great,” Beth croaks, covering her eyes. 

“Why don’t we get you your pills and be done for today?” She suggests.

Beth nods, then immediately regrets it. “Yeah. That’d be good.” 

There’s a slightly tense silence before Beth finally takes a deep breath, the pressure in her head lessening just a bit. 

“Can you get Viv for me, please?” She asks in the general direction of the physio. “She’s in there, I think,” she says, pointing vaguely to the bedroom door. 

She hears the physio get up, then a soft knock at the bedroom door and Viv’s voice filtering through with a soft come in . 

“Hi–”

“Oh, hi,” she says, surprised. “Everything okay?”

“Beth’s just not feeling too well. Needs her medicine.”

Beth can hear the way Viv scrambles out of the bed from her place on the floor, and the way she moves across the house, the little click-clack of Myle’s nails on the floor following her. 

“Lief?” She calls quietly, touching her shoulder. “You okay, baby?”

“Can you get me my pills, please?” Beth asks pitifully.

“Sure. Let’s get y– Er, sorry. Do you want to stay on the floor like that?” 

Beth lifts her shoulders in a tiny movement. “Think it’s better if I don’t move.”

“Okay,” Viv says gently. “Well, Myle’s here to keep you company,” she says, lifting Beth’s free hand to place on Myle’s back. “Just– don’t let her lick your head, please.”

“Mkay,” Beth breathes, flashing a thumbs up in Viv’s general direction. 

A few moments later, Viv’s footsteps return, and she kneels down beside Beth’s head - at least she assumes that’s what she’s doing. She doesn’t really have her eyes open at the moment to check. Then she touches Beth’s hand that she’s using to cover her eyes gently, turning it over to place two pills in her palm.

“Here.”

“Thanks,” Beth whispers, popping them in her mouth. “Wat’r?”

“Squeezy bottle,” Viv answers, putting something else in her hand. 

Beth drinks from it laying flat on her back, without moving at all, then places it blindly on the floor next to her. “Thanks.”

“Do you need anything else?” Viv asks. 

Beth furrows her brow. “S’kinda too bright in here. But I can’t get up to go to the bedroom right now.”

Viv clicks her tongue as she thinks, then scurries away, returning with a cloth that she gently sets over Beth’s eyes. “How’s that?”

“Better,” Beth replies, reaching up to touch it. “Is that– is this a football sock?”

Viv hesitates awkwardly. “Uhm… no?”

Beth snorts, then winces. “Ow. Don’t lie- this is a football sock.”

“Okay, it is,” Viv admits. “I just thought it would work fine as a blindfold.”

Beth cracks a half smile. “Weirdo.”

Chapter Text

Days pass like that - Beth’s usually fine in the morning. By the afternoon one thing or another will have set off her headaches, and she’ll be retreating to the bedroom to sleep in the dark for a few hours. 

It’s not until the end of the week, when they’ve found a routine, that Rich pulls Viv outside under the guise of a walk with the dog. Much to Beth’s irritation, she’s not quite allowed to be physically active yet, besides what she does in physio. So she watches as Viv and her dad disappear out the door, sitting on the sofa with Ben, who’s scrolling on his phone. 

“Is something wrong with Viv?” She asks, her voice suddenly cutting through the silence.

Ben looks up at her. “Huh?”

“Viv,” she repeats, looking towards the door they’d disappeared through. “Is something going on with her? Why’s Dad taking her on one of his walks?”

“One of his walks?” He echoes.

Beth huffs. “You know what I mean! His walks! When he takes one of us and has a serious talk about something. He’s been doing that with Viv, and it’s freaking me out!”

Ben frowns at her, considering for a moment. “I just think he’s letting her know that we have to go back home soon.”

Beth blinks. “Oh. How long have you been here?” She asks, thinking. “Three weeks?”

Ben nods. “Just about. We wanted to stay until you got settled. But I think now that you’re home and doing alright…”

“Why’s he taking her on a walk to say that?” She asks, tilting her head. “That doesn’t seem worthy of a walk.”

Ben sighs, turning to face her, sitting up a bit straighter. “I think he’s just making sure she’s ready for it. That she’s okay here on her own.”

“She’s not on her own,” Beth argues. “I’m here.”

He sends her a look that has her hands twitching in her lap. “I mean on her own taking care of you.”

“I don’t need taking care of,” she bites out, irritation flaring hot.

He sighs again, running a hand over his head. “Beth–”

“Don’t do that,” she snaps, gritting her teeth. “I’m your big sister, I’m not a kid.”

“I know,” he says placatingly. “I know you’re not. And I know you hate that you’re not allowed to do whatever you want, yet–”

She glowers, crossing her arms over her chest as she sinks in the cushions. 

“-- but the fact is, you do still need taking care of. I know you hate it. And I’m not saying you’re wrong for that – I’d have lost my marbles ages ago. But you do need help, and Viv’s the one that has to help you.”

“What do I need help with that’s so difficult that Dad has to take her out on a walk to make sure she’s fine?!” She barks. “It’s not like I can’t speak or eat or wash myself! I just– it’s not that much! I don’t need that much help!” 

Ben’s brow furrows and he shifts again uncomfortably. 

“ What? ” She snaps. “What is so hard about being around me since I got my head bashed in?”

He winces quietly, leaving a bit of guilt sitting heavy in her stomach. “Viv isn’t doing well, Beth.”

She sits up straighter, glancing towards the door. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her? Is she sick? Is she hurt?”

Ben shakes his head, effectively cutting her off. “She’s not hurt. Or sick, really. She’s just– she’s really struggling with this. Dealing with everything since you got hurt.”

“Dealing with what?” Beth asks, a bit of defensiveness creeping back in. “Me?”

He shrugs, and Beth notes that he didn’t say no . “She was sick about it at first. We all were, because we didn’t know if you were going to wake up or if you were going to be okay,” he says quietly, looking away. “And now that you’re getting better… I just think she’s stressed.”

“She doesn’t seem stressed,” Beth argues. “She’s not doing any of her stressy things. She– she always calls Lotte to talk about it and, and– she gets really clingy and she asks me to distract her. And she watches a lot of football. The old matches, the ones that look like you’re watching them through a paper bag on the telly–”

Ben cracks a grin, snorting softly at her description. 

“--she’s not doing any of that!”

He shrugs, quietly dismissing her argument. “Maybe not.”

“I would know,” she says resolutely. “I would know if she was having a hard time. She would tell me, too. So even if I didn’t notice, she would say! And that’s only if I didn’t - which I would!”

“I don’t think you would, Beth.”

“I would so–”

Ben cuts her off with a grimace. “You haven’t.”

Beth looks at him like he’s lost his mind, letting the words hang between them. “The hell do you mean, I haven’t? I know my own girlfriend, Ben! Better than you, I might add–”

“Normally,” he nods. “Yes, you do. But you’re not back to normal yet.”

“Not yet, but I haven’t lost all sense! I can tell when she’s upset–”

“I’m not sure you can,” he says, his voice so painfully gentle it actually sets Beth’s teeth on edge. Before she can speak, he continues, explaining quietly. “She hasn’t been sleeping. She hasn’t slept for more than a few hours at a time since you got hurt. I’ve heard her up in the middle of the night for weeks, and Dad and I find her asleep on the sofa most mornings. And she barely eats. She’s not training. She’s not talking to anyone – her phone rings like ten times a day, and she cuts it off every time. She won’t talk to me and Dad, except to give us updates and say she can handle things with you. It’s a nightmare, Beth. She’s not well.”

Beth blinks rapidly, trying to quell tears that are threatening to spill over. “It’s been that bad?”

Ben nods.

“And I haven’t noticed?” She asks, wiping at her face quickly. 

He shrugs. “I think you have a couple of times, just to ask if she’s okay. But you don’t argue when she says she’s fine. And then–”

“I forget,” she finishes for him, her voice breaking. 

“Yeah,” he nods. “You forget.”

“What’s she so upset about? Is it– is she still scared about me? Is– is something wrong? I thought I was getting better. Am I not getting better?” Her voice comes out in a rush, getting louder and shriller with each word. 

“You’re fine,” he says quickly. “You are getting better. We just don’t know how long things will take, or how much you’ll be like your old self.” 

She nods, feeling her panic settle, just a bit.

“But,” he continues, looking at her carefully. “You– honestly, Beth, you’re kind of nasty to her.”

She flinches, reeling back. “What?”

“You get annoyed with her for reminding you what you can and can’t do. You snap at her a lot. And I think she’s having a hard time with that.”

“I snap at her?”

He nods, waiting.

“Is she– why isn’t somebody telling me to stop? Why are you letting me do that?” 

Ben sighs. “You’re not exactly easy to correct, RKid. And we do try to stop you. But by then you’ve already been rude to her, and–”

“But I don’t– I don’t mean to! I’m not mad at her–” she starts desperately.

“I know,” he reassures her. “I know you don’t mean to. You’ve just got a temper. And I think Viv doesn’t do so well with that. And with everything else, I think– honestly, I think she needs help. She needs somebody to talk to. Somebody to be there for her.”

“ I can be there for her!” 

“I don’t think you can,” he shakes his head. “You don’t even know what you’re doing that’s upsetting her. And she’s sure as hell not going to tell you.”

“She needs Lotte, then! Or– or Lars, maybe. Or Katie!” 

He nods tiredly. “I know. But she won’t talk to anyone on the phone, and she won’t let anyone visit since Jen and Steph came to the hospital.”

Beth frowns. “Why not?”

“Because they came to see you when she didn’t one day, and you ended up crying until you made yourself sick enough to need to be knocked out,” he says bluntly. “She doesn’t let anyone around you that isn’t me, Dad, or her.”

“But when you go home–”

He nods. “That’s why Dad’s taking her on a walk.”

Beth is silent until Viv and her dad return. She sits on the couch, staring towards the door, her eyes periodically flicking around the room as she thinks. Ben watches her quietly from his place on the sofa. 

Eventually, she turns, kneeling on the sofa to peer out the window down the path. When she sees Myle come sprinting ahead off leash, she turns and gets up, pausing by the coffee table on the way to the door. 

“Can you pull up a match for me?” She asks, looking pensive. “It’s the Dutch vs. Spain in a World Cup. Van Persie scores a header in it. Can you find it?”

Ben frowns, already typing on his phone, then nods. “Yeah. Do you want it on the telly?”

Beth nods, drifting away towards the door. She pulls it open and steps outside, walking down the path. She sees the moment Viv spots her, the way her spine straightens with worry and she starts striding faster, leaving Rich behind. 

“Lieverd?” She calls, breaking into a jog. “You okay?” 

Beth nods, keeping up her easy stride until Viv reaches her. Before she even stops walking, Beth slides her arms around her waist, burying her face in Viv’s chest.

“Beth?” Viv asks, her cheek pressed down against the top of her head. “What’s wrong?”

Beth shakes her head silently. “Nothing,” she murmurs. “I just missed you.”

Viv goes still, her hands pausing on Beth’s back. 

“Vivi?” She says softly, her face still tucked. “I really love you. You know that, right?” 

She can feel the way Viv’s head bobs above her, though it feels a little bit hesitant. 

“I do,” she insists. “So much. I just feel like I haven’t been saying it enough recently.”

“You have,” Viv reassures her, running her hand over the back of Beth’s head. “You’ve said it plenty.” 

“Doesn’t feel like it,” she mumbles, squeezing her tighter. Then she looks up at Viv, leaning further against her as she tilts her head back to rest her chin on her chest. “You know?”

Viv nods, ducking down to press her forehead to Beth’s. “Yeah, baby,” she sighs, letting her eyes flutter closed as she takes Beth's weight against her. “I know.”

Chapter Text

In the morning, Beth wakes up with an arm slung over her waist for the first time. 

She can hear Viv breathing in her ear, soft little puffs of air through her nose as she sighs. She’s curled entirely around Beth’s back, pressed to every inch of her spine, her legs tangled with Beth’s under the blankets. Her nose is nestled in the hair at the back of Beth’s neck, just beneath the stubbly portion that’s still growing back. 

For a moment, Beth is sure it must be early. Too early to be awake, if Viv’s still in bed, sleeping behind her. But if she listens hard, she can hear some clattering around in the kitchen, the soft clack of Myle’s claws on the floorboards, the quiet opening of the back door. 

She frowns, thinking. They’d gone to bed after the match last night, Viv sleepy and pliant after some tea and having Beth lie against her chest for two hours. 

This feels like the first time Viv’s been willing to be close like this. She’d sat with her in the hospital, of course. She’s slept in the same bed as her for the last week since she’s been home, but she’d always kept to her own side. But now, she’s got Beth pulled so tight against her, it’s hard to tell where one of them begins and the other ends, and Beth wonders if this is the first time Viv has slept through the night in nearly a month. 

She wants to turn over - to watch Viv’s face as she sleeps the way she used to, to see her eyes the moment she opens them, the sleepy smile that always spreads over her face. But the moment she thinks about rolling, Viv’s hand tightens over her belly, pinning her in place. 

She’s not sure how much time has passed when Viv finally stirs, nosing gently at Beth’s shoulder, her arm sliding up to wrap around her chest, a leg slung lazily over Beth’s thigh. She squeezes her, worming her way closer, then makes a soft sound of surprise when Beth’s fingers start tracing lazy lines up and down her arm. 

“Beth?” She rasps, voice scratchy from disuse, muffled from sleep. 

“Morning, baby,” she whispers, waiting until Viv loosens her grip to turn. She can’t quite roll fully to face her, her skin still sensitive over her scar, but she can lay on her back, turning her head to look at her directly. 

Viv sits up with a frown, rubbing her eyes as she glances around. “What time is it?”

“Dunno,” Beth answers. “Late, I think. Haven’t checked.” 

Viv blinks sleepily again. “I– I didn’t even wake up last night.”

Beth lifts a corner of her mouth, reaching out to boop Viv’s nose with a single finger playfully. “Well,” she grins. “Nighttime is for sleeping, baby.” 

“No, I mean–” Viv starts slowly. “Nevermind.”

Beth props herself up on her elbow, looking down at her. “Did you sleep well?”  

She watches as Viv’s chin bobs. “Yeah. I did, actually."

“Good,” Beth chirps, reaching across Viv’s body to run a hand up her shoulder and neck to settle it on her cheek. She slings a knee over Viv’s hips, too, for good measure, and wriggles as close to her as she can get. “Does that mean I get good morning kisses? Since I woke up and you were still in bed, this time?”

The wrinkle between Viv’s eyebrows returns, nearly making her puffy eyes slide shut. “I still give you morning kisses,” she protests.

“Not in bed,” Beth argues. “And I like them here. When you’re all sleepy and heavy and– and cute.”

“M’not heavy,” Viv grumbles, her eyes sliding to Beth reproachfully.

Beth just laughs, slides her hand down Viv’s arm, and lifts her wrist. Then she releases it, watching as her arm flops to the bed with a soft thunk , bouncing one or twice on the mattress before finally settling again. “See, I’m just not sure that’s true, though, baby.”

“I’m just tired –”

“I know,” Beth placates, swooping down to press a little kiss to Viv’s cheek, then to the corner of her mouth. “I know you are.”

“S’just that I don’t like mornings–”

“I know,” Beth grins again, dropping a kiss to her nose this time. “You’re very stroppy when you have to wake up.”

Viv gasps, a horribly offended sound. “I am not!” 

“Okay, baby” Beth teases, smirking. “Whatever you say.”

She forgets that her Dad and Ben are set to leave tomorrow until they step out of the bedroom, the benchtops absolutely covered with all sorts of food shopping. Bags upon bags of groceries on every surface, and her Dad, calmly flipping through a few pages. 

“Uh… what’s all this?” Beth asks, blinking.

Viv’s hand trails across Beth’s back, her voice sheepish as she faces him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep so long–”

“Don’t apologize for finally getting some rest, Viv,” Rich dismisses with a wave of his hand. “It was no problem.”

“Still, I should have–”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Beth’s eyes flick between the two of them. “Uhm. What?”

“We’re meal prepping today,” Viv explains. “So you and I are set for the next couple of weeks while we get settled.”

“Get settled where?” Beth asks, still staring at all the bags.

“Here,” Viv answers with a little frown. “I just mean… alone. Like … settling into a new routine.”

Beth’s frown deepens. “Alone?”

“Your brother and I are going back home tomorrow, Beth,” Rich explains gently. 

“Oh,” she says, turning to him. “That soon?”

“It’s been three weeks, love. We’ve got to get back–”

“Oh, right,” she says quickly, ignoring the little jolt in her stomach that’s started happening whenever she realises she’s forgotten something. “Sure.”

Viv steps up behind her again, curling her hand around Beth’s hip. “I picked some of our favorites. So we can have something nice, instead of just takeaway all the time.”

“What favorites?” Beth asks suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. 

“Your favorites, lief,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Beth nods seriously. “And we’re all cooking?” She asks, eyeing the recipes suspiciously. “Even me?”

“I figured you’d more… supervise,” Viv says warily. 

“I could read the recipes,” Beth offers, holding her hand out for them. Her dad hands one over, ignoring the beginnings of Viv’s protests, watching as Beth scans it over. The words swim a bit on the page, the small print hard to focus on. The title is fine, but the measurements and instructions just become a jumbled mess before her eyes, and she blinks rapidly to clear them.

“Lieverd–”

Beth huffs out a breath through her nose, tossing the papers to the side, where they slide off the nearest bag, fluttering to the floor. “Nevermind,” she says with false bravado. “Can’t read.”

Viv stoops, picking up the papers which she taps gently on the countertop to arrange neatly. “That’s okay,” she tries. “We can–”

“It’s fine. I’ll just watch.” 

“Beth,” Rich says gently. “It’s still early days, sweetheart. And you’re not supposed to be reading yet. Same thing happens after a concussion, remember? Your brain just needs some time. But that doesn’t mean you can’t help, sweetheart.”

“I can’t even cook,” she grumbles. “It’s not like–”

“We can give you tasks, love,” he cuts in. “Just like your mum used to for me, back when I was hopeless. Alright? Plus, we both know this is mostly going to be Viv’s show, anyway. You and I are just here to do what she tells us.”

Beth crosses her arm sullenly, staring at the papers in Viv’s hands like she’s hoping her gaze alone will be enough to set them alight.

“Beth, lieverd,” Viv starts, creeping closer until Beth finally forces herself to look up. “You don’t have to help if you don’t want to.” 

Beth scowls at her. “I always help,” she says unhappily, like Viv really should have known better than to ask. 

Viv gives her a strange look. “You always help?”

“Yes,” she huffs. “You and I always cook together. I can’t just not help!” 

The look Viv gives her is actually starting to get on her nerves, with the confused squinting and slightly wary glances at her father, paired with her opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water. “ What? ”

“Uhm… you just don’t really…”

“I don’t really what? ”

Viv winces. “You just don’t really cook. Cooking is sort of my job–”

“I know, but I help!”

Viv makes that face again. “I mean… you try to, sure. And you keep me company–”

“I’m a good cook!” Beth says indignantly, crossing her arms again. “Right, Dad?”

Rich coughs a bit, pattering around the kitchen in an apparent effort to avoid Beth’s question.

“Ben?” She tries, rounding on him where he’s sitting on the sofa. 

He looks up from his phone, impassive. “Yeah?”

“I’m a good cook, right?” Beth asks, raising her eyebrows for him to confirm. 

Hardly a moment passes before he snorts loudly, jolting with the force of it. “No,” he says plainly. “No, you are not.”

Beth gapes at him. “Ben! I am so! Dad – tell him I am!”

“You have many talents, sweetheart,” he says gently. 

“Exactly–”

“--but cooking isn’t one of them.”

If in the morning Beth is grouchy, by the evening, she’s downright irritable. 

Physio had been exhausting. She’d had to climb the stairs about a hundred times, and then try walking outside on uneven ground with the physio clinging to her arm, tugging her off balance. Then, as soon as she’d come in, she’d been assaulted by the smells of about a hundred different ingredients - meat and veg and spices. Things roasting and baking and boiling. She sits on the stool at the countertop for about five minutes before her head starts to throb and she scoots back away from the island with a loud screech . 

Viv jolts, looking over her shoulder where she’s stirring something on the stove. “Lief?”

“Too bloody loud in here,” she gripes, rubbing at her head. “And it stinks.”

“Oh,” Viv says, still stirring distractedly. “Sorry–”

“Where are my meds?” Beth cuts in, squinting at her.

“Oh,” she says again, in that surprised, slightly hesitant way she has. “Uhm– I can get them–”

“I can get my own meds, Viv,” she huffs. “Just tell me where they are.”

She winces, nose scrunching in the way Beth normally finds charming, but right now, just finds incredibly irritating. “You’re not really– it’s just that I’m supposed to be doling them out,” she says regretfully. “Just in case.”

“Just in case what?” Beth says, her tone sharpening as the smells and sounds squeeze her head in a vice grip, creating a drumbeat at her temple. “I try to fake taking them? Hide them?”

Viv rubs her neck. “No,” she answers. “It’s so– it’s in case you forget that you took them. ‘Cause if you take too many, then…”

Beth grits her teeth. “Fine. I can’t be trusted with my own bloody medication. Can you stop stirring whatever the hell that is and give me one, then? Feels like my head’s going to fucking explode–”

“Yeah,” Viv says, scrambling to hand her spoon off to Rich, who’s watching disapprovingly. “Yeah. Just– maybe you want to go lie down? I can bring it to you–”

“Fine.” She winces again, shuffling blindly toward the bedroom. “I’ll be in bed. Just– don’t turn the lights on. And don’t be loud.”

Hours after Beth goes to bed, Viv limps in to join her, slipping beneath the sheets with a cold pack strapped to her knee.

It aches today. It’s been aching all day, practically. It’s probably just from the deconditioning of not training, she tells herself. Or from the fact that she was on her feet all day. Or because it’s storming - sometimes that makes it hurt, too. Or maybe it’s her new thing. Maybe whenever she’s upset, her knee–

Beth flinches as the cold pack brushes up against her, sucking in a sharp breath. “Viv?”

She turns quietly. “Yeah?”

Beth reaches out blindly beneath the covers, her fingers tracing the wrapping at the bottom of Viv’s thigh. “Your knee hurts?” 

Viv blinks into the darkness. “Yeah, a bit. Just achy.”

She feels Beth nod next to her, her hair shifting against the pillowcase. “Mine, too,” she mumbles. “And my head.”

Viv turns towards her. “Yeah? Do you need more meds?” 

“I don’t like them,” she says quietly, sliding her hand across the sheets until she finds Viv’s, brushing their fingers together. 

Viv takes the opportunity to tangle them. “I know. But if they help–”

“Do you ever think I’ll be back to normal?” She interrupts, her grip tightening. “Do you ever think I’ll be me again?”

Viv freezes for a moment, then slips closer, tucking Beth in close to her body. “You are you, baby.”

Beth turns into her further, her voice shaking when she speaks. “Doesn’t feel like I am.”

“Why not?” 

“I just can’t do anything anymore. And I’m so– I don’t know. I just get really– really bothered, I guess.”

Viv nods, her nose brushing against Beth’s head. “It’s frustrating to not be able to do the things you want to do.”

Beth nods back, her nails digging into Viv’s skin a bit where she’s clinging to her. “It’s not fair,” she croaks, her voice catching. 

Viv brushes her fingers over Beth’s face, swiping away a few stray tears. “It’s not. It’s really, really not.”

“I want my old life back, Viv,” she whimpers, her chest stuttering with the beginning of sobs. “I hate this. I don’t want to do this anymore. I just want– I want to be normal again!”

Viv wisely doesn’t say anything. She just nods silently and holds her while she cries, brushing away her tears with gentle hands, dropping kisses wherever she can reach while Beth sobs into her shoulder. She lets her own tears track silently down her cheeks, leaving salt crusted over her skin as they dry. 

She’ll scrub most of it away in the morning with her sleeve, when she climbs out at dawn, long before Beth wakes up. 

Rich will brush away the last of the tracks on her face when he joins her in the garden, staring silently out at the trees.

Chapter Text

Viv and Beth are both quiet throughout the morning. Neither of them explain why, but Ben and Rich know better than to ask. Just before Beth’s physio arrives, they pack their things into the car and wrap each of the girls in hugs. 

“Let us know if you need anything, sweetheart,” Rich says to Viv.

Ben gives Beth a light punch on the shoulder. “Try not to whack your head again,” he tells her with a grimace. 

Viv just nods while Beth punches Ben back, a bit harder. 

It’s tense, after the boys leave. Silence settles thick and heavy in the house, and Viv doesn’t know how to dispel it. Beth just sits and stares at things - the wall, her hands. At the moment, she’s looking at the trophies on the shelf with such a devastated expression on her face that Viv feels like she might cry, herself. Instead, she walks up behind her, wrapping her arms around to lace over Beth’s stomach. 

Beth turns in her grip, pressing her forehead into Viv’s shoulder. “Can we go for a walk?” She asks, voice uncharacteristically small. “I know I’m not really– I can’t sit in here anymore.”

Viv presses her nose into Beth’s hairline, sighing. “Yeah, baby. Let’s go for a walk.”

Outside, they move slowly. Hand in hand, they walk down the footpath, Beth occasionally stopping to look at something or leaning against Viv’s side for a moment as Myle trots along off leash in front of them. When they come to the edge of the housing complex, Beth suddenly straightens, looking down the road to her left. 

“Beth?” Viv questions. 

“Steph moved,” she says, halfway questioning, halfway remembering. “She lives down there now.”

Viv follows her gaze down the road, nodding carefully. “Yeah, that’s right. She does.”

“I haven’t seen her,” she says, frowning. “Since the hospital, right? She hasn’t come since she was there with Jen?”

Viv shakes her head. 

Beth’s face falls a little. “Is she– did I yell at her, too? Is that why–”

“No,” Viv says quickly. “No, baby. She just– You weren’t allowed that many visitors, and you got upset when I wasn’t there, and– your dad and Ben wanted to see you too–”

“She’s not mad?” Beth says hopefully. 

“No, lief. She’s not mad.”

Beth glances down the road again. “She hasn’t come to the house,” she says softly. “She could have come to the house.”

Viv sighs, rubbing at the spot between her eyebrows. “I– that part was me,” she admits regretfully. “I– people have asked. To see us. You, mostly. I–”

Beth looks at her like she’s never seen her before. “You’ve been saying no?” 

“Honestly, lief, I haven’t been answering.”

"Answering what?"

"The texts. Calls, I guess, too."

“Viv! You can’t just– If you won’t let me have my phone, you’ve got to answer yours !” 

“I know–”

“Everybody’s gonna be worried!” Beth frets. “They’re gonna think I’m dying!”

Viv flinches, but not enough that Beth notices. “I wasn’t–”

“We have to go,” she says, already starting to turn away. “I have to go tell her I’m fine. She’s– she’s probably freaking out, Viv! She’s a worrier!” 

Viv bites her cheek. “Sorry, lief.”

“You’ve got to think about these things, Vivi! You can’t just let everybody be stressed because you don’t like texting! That’s not fair!”

“I–”

“Come on,” she demands, tugging on Viv’s sleeve. “We’re going to Steph’s. Right now. We’re going.”

Viv releases a long-suffering sigh. “Beth–”

“No! I haven’t seen her in weeks and she’s probably scared! I need to go check on her!” 

“Okay,” Viv sighs, shuffling forwards. “Fine. But don’t rush –”

Beth has to be stopped no less than three times on the way to Steph’s. Once because she took a wrong turn, once because she looked on the edge of breaking into a jog, and once because she tripped over the steps rushing up to the door. 

“Lief, breathe – she’s not going anywhere!”

“It’s Moo!” Beth protests, gesturing at Myle who's trotting along by her ankle. “She’s excited!”

Viv huffs quietly. “Sure. It’s Moo.”

Beth presses the doorbell about four times in less than a second, then starts knocking on the door so hard Viv’s worried it might actually give them both a migraine. She’s about to grab her hand to stop her when the door swings open, revealing a rather frantic-looking Steph, who’s promptly bowled out of the way by Calvin and Myle rushing for one another, two fluffy bodies tangling in the foyer. 

“My Steffy!” Beth squeals, grinning as she throws herself forward. 

Viv lurches for her worriedly, but Steph catches her, staring at Viv over Beth’s shoulder. 

“Beth?” She asks, unsure. “Is everything okay?”

“Mhm,” she nods, sounding distinctly choked up.

“Viv?” Steph asks, glancing up.

She shrugs, feeling out of place. “She wanted to go on a walk, then remembered where you live. Said you’d be worried.”

Steph’s arms tighten around Beth. “I was worried.”

“ Told you ,” Beth grumbles, earning a sigh from Viv. 

“Come in,” Steph urges, taking a few steps back and dragging Beth with her. “Come in, let me take a look at you!”

They take the seats on the sofa, chattering excitedly at each other while Viv perches awkwardly at the stools by the counter, watching. Occasionally she’ll bend down to pet the dogs as they come sniffing by her feet, but mostly she just sits, listening. 

“Physio’s going okay?” Steph asks, focused in so intently on Beth, Viv’s almost certain she’s forgotten she’s here. 

“Yeah,” Beth nods eagerly, then winces. “Ow– Yeah. It’s going good. Not allowed to do everything yet, but it’s better. And my head doesn’t hurt as much, I don’t think.”

Steph’s brow flickers in confusion, and Beth rushes to explain.

 “It’s just that my memory isn’t great yet. It’s still getting better. I– sometimes I need reminders.”

“That’s okay,” Steph offers gently. “What do they have you do?”

“Work on balance, mostly,” Beth explains. “I get up and down off the floor a lot. Bend over. That sort of thing.”

Steph nods. “Are they having you work on memory stuff? Flashcards or anything? Is it just physio or do they have you doing other therapies, too?”

Beth frowns. “Oh. Uhm–”

“They wanted her on two weeks of brain rest,” Viv pipes up from the kitchen. “We’ve got an appointment next week, and then she might be cleared to work on some of those.”

Beth scrunches her face. “I have an appointment next week?”

Viv nods tiredly. “Yeah, lief. On Thursday.”

“Oh.”

“So… you’re not allowed visitors yet, then?” Steph asks.

“I can have visitors!”

“Not yet,” Viv interrupts as gently as she can. 

“Dad and Ben were here!” Beth protests. “They’re visitors!”

Viv shakes her head. “Not really, lief. And it’s just overwhelming for your head, if there’s too many people–”

“It’s not overwhelming,” she gripes, flashing an irritated glare in Viv’s direction. “Don’t tell me what’s too overwhelming for me.” 

Viv catches the flicker of surprise that crosses Steph’s face, but ignores it, just as she ignores Beth’s annoyance. “Just reminding you what the doctors said, Beth.”

“Don’t need you to remind me,” she grumbles. 

Steph glances between the two of them, sending Viv a sympathetic glance when she sees her expression. “What about one at a time?” Steph asks. “Is that allowed?”

Viv purses her lips, even as Beth nods eagerly, then winces again, pressing her palm to her temple. “I dunno–”

“Even if it’s just to help out a bit,” Steph offers. “Take Myle when she’s being crazy or keep an eye on her when you have appointments or something. I know it’s just you two now–”

“We’re doing fine.”

Steph nods. “I know. But I can help, too. All the girls can. We’ve been wanting to, we just didn’t want to be in the way or make things harder.”

Viv nods absently, but doesn’t really answer.

“I know Lotte’s been dying to see you,” she adds softly. 

Viv blinks. “Oh–”

“And Katie, too. And Manu – she’s hoping you can meet the baby soon. And Vic. Daph, too. Kim’s been making us all wait til you reached out, but–”

“Sorry,” Viv murmurs. “I– I haven’t been good about answering my phone.”

“That’s okay,” Steph says softly. “I get it.” 

“I don’t,” Beth grumbles. 

Steph turns, frowning at as she watches her fiddle with one of the pillows. 

“She’s just not happy she’s not allowed to have her phone yet,” Viv explains, trying to smooth over her concern. “Wants me to do all her texting for her.”

Steph hesitates for just a moment, then nods. “Ah. Well. We can’t all text like Beth.”

“No,” Viv says. “No, we can’t.” 

Chapter Text

The next week is damn near unbearable. 

Viv is a stickler for the rules and it’s starting to drive Beth absolutely insane . 

She can’t watch the telly. She can’t listen to music too loud. She can’t play with Myle on the floor. She’s not supposed to stay home alone unsupervised. She can’t have more than one visitor at a time, and even then, Viv won’t leave the house 

She just sits and hovers and watches and corrects. 

Beth’s been near the edge of screaming at her about it every day this week, though she’s done a decent job of reminding herself not to lose her patience. It helps when other people are there, too. She’s not as likely to shout when Kim’s sitting on the sofa. Or Leah. Or Vic. 

It’s just that every day is the same . She wakes up. She isn’t allowed coffee. Viv makes her breakfast and won’t let her help. They sit and do nothing until it’s time for Beth’s physio, which always makes her a little tired and irritable. Viv sits and stares at Beth while she does her physio. Then Viv forces her to eat lunch before Beth takes a nap on the sofa, or in the bedroom if her head hurts. When she wakes up in the afternoon, someone from the team comes over, always with the all-clear from Viv first: her phone has been ringing incessantly over the last few days with people calling for permission to visit, even if there’s only been a handful of visitors. And then they eat dinner, go for a short walk around the housing complex with Myle, and go to bed. Sometimes, if she’s lucky, she’ll get to listen to a football match on the telly, though Viv won’t let her watch it yet. 

Not until the doctor says it’s okay, Beth , is always her answer. 

The impatience and frustration and frankly, rage, has been building up so much, Beth has had the nearly unbearable urge to ask Steph to sleepover at her place, just to get a break from Viv. But so far she’s held out, reminding herself over and over that Viv’s just scared and trying to help.

She’s just scared and trying to help.

Scared and trying to help. 

“Vivi?” She calls, hissing as her head throbs. It’s been a long time since she’s woken up with a headache as bad as this one. “Baby?”

Footsteps sound from the living room, but it’s Steph that comes around the corner, not Viv. 

“Beth? You okay?”

“Steph?” She mumbles, blinking. “Where’s Viv? What time is it? What’s happening?”

“It’s almost two,” Steph answers. “Viv’s just… she stepped out for a bit. You got a headache earlier, so you’ve been sleeping.”

“Oh. How long have I been sleeping? How long have you been here? Where’d Viv go?”

“Two or three hours,” she answers. “Viv’s just gone out for a bit. She’s coming back soon to take you to your appointment.”

“My appointment?”

“Yeah, chicken. You’ve got a follow-up appointment today. To check in about your head.”

“Oh. When?”

“At three. Viv should be here soon. I was going to wake you up any minute, get you ready to go.”

“I can get ready by myself–”

“Don’t your migraines throw your balance off?” Steph asks, grabbing Beth’s arm as she swings her legs over the side of the bed and goes tipping sideways.

“Oh. Yeah. Forgot.” 

“Just– take it easy, okay? Viv’ll never leave me alone with you again if you fall.”

“Viv needs to stop worrying so much,” Beth grumbles.

“I think we could all do with worrying a little less. But we all also watched you get carted off unconscious and then had to listen to the doctors say you might never wake up, so I think we’ll be worrying for a while,” she argues, mostly speaking to herself. 

Beth leans away from her, resting back on her hands. “What?”

“What?” Steph echoes, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“You were there? With the doctors?”

“Yeah,” she nods, her confusion deepening. “A bunch of us came to the hospital to be with Viv, after. We were there when they gave her the update about your surgery.”

“And they said I wasn’t going to wake up?”

Steph looks at her like she can’t quite believe Beth doesn’t know this already. “Beth… they told us you may never be yourself again They weren’t even sure if you’d wake up at all.”

“Viv never told me that.”

Steph shrugs, unsurprised this time. “She probably doesn’t remember, exactly.”

“Why not?”

“I think she was in shock, Beffy. She didn’t really understand what the doctors said. Jill had to repeat it to her in Dutch. She didn’t really– I don’t know that she was all there for that bit.”

“Oh,” Beth frowns. “Where is she now, again? She’s not here , right?”

Steph shakes her head. “No. She’s out.”

“Out where? ”

Steph sighs. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“She didn’t say?”

She shakes her head again. “She called me and asked me to come over and then left. Said she’d be back to take you to your appointment.” 

“She just left ? She never just leaves. She’s always hovering and fussing and everything.”

“She was pretty upset, chicken,” Steph explains carefully. “I think she may have been having a panic attack, or something.”

Beth’s head snaps up at the words, her eyes boring sharply into Steph’s. “What? Why? What about? She can’t– Steph, she can’t calm down on her own! Ow – she always needs me!”

Steph opens and closes her mouth a few times before she finally speaks. “I’m not sure where she went, exactly. But I think staying here was making it worse. Whatever happened, whatever you two– whatever set her off,” she corrects, “staying here was upsetting her.”

“Can you call her? Check on her?” Beth begs. “She shouldn’t be– she never does well panicking on her own–”

“I have,” Steph cuts in. “She didn’t answer.”

“Where’s my phone?” Beth asks, turning her head sharply to search for it. “Where–”

“You can’t use yours yet, hon–”

“I want you to track her location,” she interrupts. “Tell me where she is.”

“Beth–”

“Find my phone and tell me where she is, Steph!” 

“M’right here,” Viv answers, her voice trickling in from the hall. “Don’t shout at her.”

“Viv?!” Beth’s voice is shrill, bordering on screechy with worry. “Vivi?!”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“Baby, are you okay? Steph said you were upset–”

Viv’s voice doesn’t answer her, which prompts Beth to throw herself out of bed, grabbing onto Steph for balance as she scurries for the bedroom door. She finds Viv sitting on the sofa, head in her hands, elbows on her knees. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” She sits down beside her on the sofa, turned towards her as she reaches out, trying to catch her eyes. “Baby–”

“I’m fine.” She pushes Beth’s hands away gently, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand. 

“Steph said you were having a panic attack,” Beth whispers. “Is that true? Why didn’t you come get me? You could have woken me up if you needed me. I know I had a headache, but–”

Viv lifts her head, eyes red and bloodshot. They’re puffy, too, from crying, and Beth can see the blotchiness on her chest and neck that usually happens after she panics. 

“Viv?”

“Do you remember when your headache started, Beth?” She asks, her voice flat as she stares at her. 

Beth thinks, head pulsing slightly as she tries to remember. She remembers bits and pieces of the last hours. An odd jumble of images that she can’t make much sense of. Steph showing up, talking with Viv by the door, their heads ducked together, Viv’s back to Beth on the sofa.  “No,” she answers. “It must have been this morning, right? I saw you talking to Steph by the door…”

Viv puts her face back in her hands, shaking her head back and forth slightly. “Yeah. It was this morning.”

“Did something happen?” Beth frowns. “Are you scared about my appointment? Steph said I’ve got one at three–”

Viv sighs, long and low, almost robotically reaching for her phone and rejecting a call when it starts to ring. She does it without look, so quickly Beth doesn’t get a chance to see who was calling before it’s gone. “No. It’s not about your appointment.”

“Then what–”

“Don’t worry about it. How’s your head? Do you need more meds before we go?”

Beth blinks at her brusqueness, feeling more than a little rejected. “Viv?”

“Do you need more meds?” She repeats, pushing to her feet. “I’ll get them if you need them.”

“I need you to tell me what’s happening–”

“Meds, Beth,” she says sharply. “Yes or no.”

Beth flinches, blinking hard. “I–”

“I’ll get the ones that don’t make you tired,” Viv mutters, turning her back. “And the nausea pill for the car.”

Steph doesn’t say anything when Viv disappears. She just winces in Beth’s direction, then goes to stand in the doorway of the bedroom, making faces into the darkness in what Beth assumes is a silent conversation with Viv. There’s a lot of worried frowning and glances in Beth’s direction, but Viv looks as impassive as ever when she reappears. She grabs a glass of water and brings it over, dropping two pills and the cup in Beth’s hand before she turns away again, snatching her shoes off the floor and handing them over as she shoves her feet into her own. Steph watches her worriedly, moving closer to murmur to her just quietly enough that Beth doesn’t catch it all.

“It’s okay if you need— Just let me know, okay? I can come back later -–”

Viv nods stiffly. “I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” she says, hovering a hand over Viv’s shoulder. She never places it down, though, just hovers and then moves away again. 

“Vivi?”

“Ready to go?” She asks, ignoring Beth’s calling of her name entirely. 

Beth nods, carefully getting up from the couch with the aid of Viv’s hand, which she’s held out stiffly in front of her. She helps Beth out of the apartment and down to the car, placing her carefully in the car before taking her own seat. She waves to Steph through the windscreen before they pull away, but she never looks over at Beth. 

Not once. 

They sit in the waiting room silently, Viv pointedly ignoring the way Beth is anxiously watching her, though Beth can tell she notices just by the way she’s sitting. When the nurse finally calls her name, Viv helps her up, then gestures for her to walk first, following silently behind her at half a pace back. She’s sitting in the chair by the door, scrolling through her phone when the nurse finally finishes checking Beth’s vital signs, closing the door behind her. 

“Viv?” Beth tries. “Vivi?”

She doesn’t look up as she answers. “Yes?” 

“Is everything okay?” She asks worriedly. “Are you okay?” 

“M’fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“I’m fine, Beth.”

“Viv–”

A few sharp knocks at the door interrupt Beth’s sentence, and the door swings open, revealing a rather chipper Dr. Reeves. He smiles at them both widely, his expression faltering a little when he reads the tension in the room. 

“Beth, Viv,” he greets, sliding onto his rolling stool. “How have you been?”

Viv stays quiet, even while Beth waits for her to answer. 

“Uhm,” Beth finally says when too much time has passed. “Good, I think.”

“Everything going okay since you’ve been home?”

“Yeah,” Beth nods, squinting a little when her head throbs. 

“Physio going okay?”

She hums her agreement this time. “It’s tiring. I usually nap after.”

He nods. “That’s fairly common. How have the headaches been? Any migraines?”

Beth winces. “Yeah. Some. Had one today. Still hurts a little but Viv gave me my meds, I think. You did - right, baby?”

Viv nods stiffly, her arms crossed over her chest as she slumps low in the chair. 

“Memory still giving you trouble?” Dr. Reeves asks Beth, frowning patiently. 

“A bit,” she admits. “I don’t know, really. I don’t–”

“--remember,” he finishes for her. “That makes sense. Viv? Any insight?” 

“Her memory? It’s been okay. Needs reminders about things as they approach, but she knows the routine. And the rules, for the most part. She just doesn’t like them,” she adds tightly.

Dr. Reeves’ eyebrows lift marginally, his only outward reaction to Viv’s attitude. “What about today? She seems to have some difficulty remembering what’s happened today,” he offers.

Viv shrugs. “That’s the meds. The ones that make her tired. She can never remember anything after I have to give her those.”

“Ah,” he nods. “I see. And how often is she needing those?”

“Only when she screams and gives herself a migraine,” she mutters. 

“Mm. And how many times has that been, since she’s been home?” 

Viv sighs, rubbing her face. “The migraines? I dunno. Once the first day - she didn’t do very well with all the moving and the car when we were going home. Once on the first day of physio - we didn’t know about premedicating for that. She’s done fine with regular paracetamol since then. Once with a bad storm - I think it was the pressure, since both our knees were achy, too – and once today. So four, I guess. Since we’ve been home.”

“Mm,” he frowns. “And they make her forget?”

Viv nods, her tone slightly sharp. “She loses the whole day, almost. She doesn’t remember what happened before I gave them to her, and she usually doesn’t remember after when she wakes up the next day, either. But she always sleeps for a few hours, so that’s probably part of it as well.”

“Do they make her woozy? Dizzy?”

She nods again. “She’s always off balance when I have to give her those. And she feels sick.”

“And you’ve got them hidden away, right? She can’t accidentally get to them and take too many?”

Viv shakes her head. “They’re hidden.” 

“Good,” he nods. “Well - I might want to try a different medicine, then, Beth,” he says, turning to her. “I want you doing as much as you can tolerate, and knocking you out when you get a migraine isn’t great for that. I might put you on medicine to prevent them, instead. Four full migraines in two weeks is a lot, even if they were provoked.” 

Beth nods. “Okay.”

“How have you been doing following the brain rest?”

Beth nods. “Good,” she reports. She frowns when Viv mutters something under her breath she can’t quite make out. “Viv’s been good about making sure I don’t do more than I’m supposed to.”

“Mm,” he hums again. “And have you been trying to? Do more?”

Beth smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. A bit.”

“Like what sorts of things?”

“I tried reading the other day,” she admits. “Just a recipe but the print was too small. It all got jumbled. And sometimes I want to watch football or play with Myle - she’s our dog. Or have friends over. Or listen to music or go on a run or something. I’m just antsy. Bored.”

He chuckles softly. “I’m sure. Viv? How’s do you think she’s been doing with brain rest?”

An odd expression crosses her face, sort of a half-glare, half-grimace. “She hates it. But I’m fairly successful at keeping her from doing too much. I have given in on some things, though. The fights just haven't been worth it.”

“Like what sorts of things have you been flexible with?”

She sighs. “We’ve gone on walks. Not too long, and always slow. And I make sure she won’t fall, but– we were both losing it. So now we go on walks at night with Myle. And like she said - I’ve let some teammates come over. Just one at a time, nothing too crazy.”

“And how has that gone?”

“Good, I think,” she shrugs. “She’s done fine walking. And she’s not as p– she’s less frustrated when she gets to see her friends.”

“They’re your friends too, Vivi,” Beth adds quietly. “Not just mine.”

Viv just looks at her for a long moment. “They’re there to see you, Beth. Not me.” 

Dr. Reeves frowns, glancing between them. “How have things been going at home between the two of you? I know you said there’s been some frustration. Do you have enough help? Is your family still around?”

Viv pinches her lips shut, the skin going white from the pressure. 

“My dad and brother left last week,” Beth offers. “They had to get back to work, so it’s just been us.”

“Mm. And how’s that been going?”

“I think it’s been okay…” she says hesitantly. “I know I get annoyed with her. Snappy, sometimes, I think, when she tells me I can’t do things. I just– I know she’s just trying to help, but I hate it. And sometimes…” she pauses for a long time, looking at Viv. “Sometimes it just feels like all she does is tell me ‘no’. And we just never do anything. I’m bored. I’m antsy. I think you are, too, Viv– when’s the last time you did a workout? Had time alone for more than five minutes?”

Viv doesn’t answer, she just crosses her arms over her chest again, staring at the floor with her jaw fixed. 

“So there’s been some tension,” Dr Reeves offers carefully. 

Beth nods her agreement, but Viv doesn’t move, sitting as still as a statue in her chair. She’s not even blinking. Barely looks like she’s breathing, either, to Beth’s eye–

“Well,” he says suddenly. “Beth – I’d like to have my nurse come in and do some cognitive and physical testing with you. It’ll help us know what sorts of therapies you need and what you might be ready to graduate to. While you do that, I’ll just chat with Viv some more in the other room, okay? Then you and I will talk for a bit before we all come back together.” 

Beth nods, watching as Viv silently gets up from her chair, striding out the door with a quick backwards glance, like she needs to reassure herself that Beth isn’t going to fall off the table the moment she turns her back. 

The tests are hard.

Beth’s brain aches throughout the entire thing, and she’s rubbing at her temple by the time Viv and Dr. Reeves return. She’d spent the last fifteen minutes counting backwards and spelling words. Remembering numbers and naming animals. Drawing shapes and tapping out patterns. She even had to stand with her eyes closed for a moment and then had to stand on each foot with her eyes open - she’d stumbled into the nurse almost immediately on all of those. 

When the nurse hands off the scoring sheet with Beth’s test results to Dr. Reeves, he studies it carefully, silently reviewing everything she’d written on it. Beth takes that opportunity to study Viv. 

She’s sunk deep into her seat again, sleeves pulled down over her hands. The collar of her shirt is stretched and wet in places, and her eyes are puffy again. Her breath is catching in her throat - Beth can see the way it stutters in her chest from here, the way she hiccoughs slightly with settling sobs. She’s about to ask if she’s okay again, or just hop down off the table and crawl straight into her lap, but Dr. Reeves shifts and the squeak of his chair breaks her focus. 

“Alright, so. Beth – this testing isn’t half bad. Especially when you’ve had a migraine today. I’m really pleased with these results, to tell you the truth.”

She straightens, beaming. “Really?”

He nods. “I think we can graduate you to a new set of therapies. You’ll still do physio - we’ll keep working on balance and equilibrium, but we’ll add in some other exercises, too, since you’re feeling a bit pent up. No running, mind you - but maybe we can have you do a bit of strength training.”

She grins again, chancing a look at Viv. “Really?” 

Dr. Reeves chuckles. “Mhm. And – I want you to start cognitive and occupational therapies, too. You’ll work on your memory and reading and focus. And your emotional regulation - it’ll help with feeling so frustrated. And in occupational therapy you’ll work on fine-motor skills and everyday tasks - that way you feel a bit more like your old self. A bit more independent.”

“Okay,” she nods. “When do I start that? Do they come to the house, too? How many hours am I going to be doing therapy? Feels like training for football–”

He chuckles again. “It is, a bit. I want you to start Monday. And I think I’d like you to come to the hospital. There’s a rehab facility attached for brain injury patients. Normally you’d be living there, but sometimes patients come in for intensive therapies for a few hours every day. That way you get out of the house and hopefully start feeling a bit normal again. And Viv– you can drop her off and come back to pick her up, you don’t have to stay around the whole time. That’ll give you a few hours to take care of yourself, too.”

“Wait,” Beth frowns. “It’s at the hospital? But then Viv’s going to have to drive–”

“It’s fine,” Viv interrupts, still looking at the floor. “I’ll drive you.”

“But–”

“It’s fine, Beth. It’ll be better that you get out of the house, get a new environment. Have some time around people that aren’t me.” 

“I like being around you,” Beth pouts. “Don’t say it like that.”

Viv just closes her eyes, sighing. “I’ll bring you in. It’s not a problem.”

“That’s settled then,” Dr Reeves nods. “And Beth - I’m switching your medicine. I don’t want you losing whole days anymore. Let’s prevent these headaches as best we can, yeah?”

Chapter Text

“Go through it with me again,” Beth wheedles. “I want to remember what he said.”

Viv sighs softly, eyes fixed straight on the road in front of her. “Why don’t you tell me what he said, and I’ll tell you if you forgot anything.”

Beth bites her lip. “Okay. Okay - but you can’t say something isn’t allowed when it is, okay? Not even if it makes you nervous.”

Viv’s hands tighten on the wheel. “I wouldn’t do that, Beth.”

“Well, I’m just making sure–”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Well, I’m just saying, since you were so stressed this morning, that maybe you’d hold something back to try to protect me, and–”

“I wasn’t stressed this morning. And I don’t lie to you,” she says tightly. “No matter how much you think I do.”

Beth frowns at her tone. “I don’t think you lie to me.”

“Then what is this conversation about?” She fires back.

“Viv–”

She shifts in her seat, briefly clenching her fists before settling again. “Just– just tell me what you remember about the rules. Go on. I won’t hide anything.”

Beth eyes her for a moment. She’s not stupid - she knows Viv is angry with her, or upset, or– or something . But she can’t figure out what about, and she just knows that if she asks, Viv won’t tell her. She gets stuck on that thought for a moment - letting it run around in her head in the hopes that the answer will just eventually magically come to her. She can’t ask, because Viv won’t tell her, but she won’t know unless Viv tells her. She goes around in circles with that for a minute until she catches Viv’s slight glance in her direction and shakes herself clear of it. “Right. Rules,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I’m not on brain rest anymore, but I need to be careful of things that make my head hurt - we don’t want to overdo it.”

Viv nods. 

“I’m doing more therapies,” Beth lists. “I don’t remember all the names, but it’s a bunch more stuff. Like actual proper working out and brain therapy and stuff. And I have to go into the hospital to do it every day, and you’re gonna drop me off and pick me up.”

Another nod. 

“He said something about sleeping,” she mumbles. “I’m meant to be napping, or something?”

“You’ll probably want to,” Viv corrects. “After all your therapies, you’ll probably be tired. You don’t have to nap, but it’s good for you to let yourself rest after you do all that work, if you need to.” 

Beth nods along. “Okay. So afternoon naps for us, then,” she grins. “Like always.” 

Viv just dips her chin, acknowledging her words silently. 

“Uhm… is there other stuff? I feel like there’s other stuff.”

“What aren’t you allowed to do?” Viv prompts. “There’s a few things.”

“No running or football or roughhousing,” Beth huffs. “No coffee yet, but I can have some tea. No leaving the house on my own.”

“Why is that?” Viv interrupts, pushing her for an answer. “Why aren’t you allowed out by yourself?”

“Because,” Beth grumbles. “I might get lost or confused. Apparently.” 

Viv nods. “That means no taking Myle out for walks by yourself yet, even if that’s just around the housing complex.”

“That’s so stupid –”

“Don’t care,” Viv answers brusquely. “That’s the rules.”

“Well then the rules are stupid!” 

“The rules are there to keep you safe, Beth.” She says it automatically, with a hint of exhaustion like maybe even she’s sick of hearing those words. 

“Still stupid,” she mumbles. 

“Yeah,” Viv sighs. “Well. Too bad.”

“You’re not being very nice about this,” Beth pouts, eyeing her reproachfully.

The muscle in Viv’s jaw flickers. “Well, you’re not very nice about it to me, either, so. I guess we’re even.”

Beth frowns, studying her. Something flickers in the back of her head, but she can’t find it through all the fog and confusion. 

“What else?” Viv demands after a beat of silence. “What other rules?”

“Can’t drink, can’t do drugs, can’t vape or smoke,” Beth rattles off. “Not that I was doing that anyway. You still have to do my meds because I might forget and take too many and accidentally poison myself.” She grins, feeling oddly proud when Viv nods along approvingly. “Am I forgetting anything?”

Viv purses her lips. “You need to make sure you tell somebody if you’re feeling dizzy. You could fall and hurt your head, so we need to keep a closer eye on you if that happens.”

Beth nods absently. “Anything else?”

Viv presses her lip together again, but she looks more pained about it this time, wrinkling her nose slightly as she blows out a sharp breath. “Yeah. One other thing.”

“Give me a hint.”

Viv looks away from the road for a second, grimacing, her lip caught between her teeth when she looks back. “It’s a rule for both of us. Us together, I mean. Something we can’t do.”

Beth thinks. “Play football?” She guesses.

Viv shakes her head.

“Uh… drive?”

“No. Well, yes– I mean, I have to drive. You can’t drive for a few more months at least. But that’s not it.”

“Okay. Uhm… cooking? No, we can cook together - that doesn’t make sense. What else do we even do?” She mutters to herself. “We can go on walks. We can watch football…I dunno. I forgot. What is it?”

“He, uh–” she clears her throat awkwardly. “He doesn’t want us sleeping together yet.”

Beth frowns. “Why not? We’ve been doing fine with that! You don’t even roll around that much, it’s not like you’re gonna whack me in the head!”

Viv makes that odd face again. “No, not– we can sleep in the same bed,” she says. “He– it’s–”

“Ohhhh,” Beth breathes. “He doesn’t want us having sex .” 

Viv presses her lips together awkwardly. “Yeah. That.”

“Well, why not?” Beth scoffs. “What’s so bad about it?”

“He’s worried it’s too…. Strenuous.”

“We could just not be strenuous,” Beth argues. 

“That’s what he said, Beth,” Viv says tightly. “No sex.”

Beth huffs irritably. “Fine. But for the record, I think that rule is stupid, too.”

“I don’t see why,” she mumbles. “It’s not really going to change anything.”

“What do you mean? This changes everything! ”

“How? What’s it going to change?”

“I know we haven’t been…but maybe I was hoping to, soon! ”

Viv sends her a different look this time - half-doubtful, half-concerned. “Were you?”

“I mean… I wasn’t really thinking about it, to be honest,” she says truthfully. “But now that I am… yeah, why not? It’s been ages .”

Viv doesn’t turn to look at her. Doesn’t react at all, really, beyond going a little stiff in her seat. Her hands flex a little on the steering wheel and her jaw flickers. 

“I know we were worried about my head, but it’s fixed now,” she says, tapping her temple with a little wince. “It’s not like it’s not protected. And I’m not saying we’d do it right this minute, but… I miss you. I’d like things to go back to normal, wouldn’t you?”

Viv doesn’t answer. She just bites her lip, sitting up straight in her seat and leaning forward to see over the bonnet of the car. She stays quiet in the last few blocks home, pulling into the drive without a word. When she finally cuts the engine off, she hesitates, her fingers tapping restlessly on the steering wheel, knee bouncing anxiously.  

“Viv?”

“I’m going to call Steph,” she finally says, her voice soft. “Have her come stay with you for a couple days”

Beth blinks. “What?”

“I’ll write down the new rules so she knows. And tell her where your meds are if you need more–”

“Why? Where are you going?” 

She looks away quickly, out the window, away from Beth.  “I’m going to go stay with Lotte for a bit.”

“Why?”

She shakes her head slightly, blowing out a breath. Her hands shake a little in her lap and she fists them in her trousers, twisting the fabric.

Beth turns, facing her across the console. “I know you’re upset,” she says desperately, watching as Viv’s back stiffens and her face goes blank.  “With me, I mean. From this morning. I don’t know why, or what I did, or what happened, but I know something isn’t right. But you don’t have to leave! We can– we can talk about it! I’ll fix it, I promise, I just– I need you to tell me what happened,” she begs. “I’ve tried remembering, I just don’t–”

Viv shakes her head hard, speaking fast. “It’s not about this morning–”

“It is! It is, ‘cause you can’t even look at me and now you’re leaving! You can’t– you can’t just leave and not give me a chance to fix it!”

“There’s nothing to fix,” she answers, chewing the inside of her lip, her knee still bouncing slightly. “It’s just how things are. It’s just how you feel.” 

“Viv,” she pleads, reaching out to grab Viv’s hand, even as she stiffens at the touch. “Just tell me, please . What happened? What did I do?”

Viv shakes her head, chin wobbling. “There’s no point. You don’t even remember. You don’t even know if you meant it or not.” 

“Meant what? ” 

“I’m gonna call Steph,” she says again, more desperately this time, shifting in her seat to get the door. “Just– come inside. Please.”

“No!” She cries, locking her fingers around the arm rest. “No, don’t– Viv, please don’t leave like this! I don’t understand–”

“Please don’t do that. Please don’t make this harder.”

“Make what harder?” She spits. “ Leaving me?! No! I’m not going to make that easy for you! I’m not letting you do that!” 

“I’m not leaving you–”

“Yes, you are! You’re running away! You’re upset and you’re– you’re being– this is selfish , Viv! You can’t just run off to punish me! I don’t even know what I did! This isn’t fair!” 

“Just come inside,” she groans, shoving the heels of her hands into her eyes as she rocks forward to rest her head against the steering column for a moment before she sits back up. “And stop shouting - you’re going to give yourself another migraine–”

“Oh don’t fucking act like you care–”

Viv whips around, her voice exploding inside the car. “Je gaat te ver, Beth!” She shouts, eyes wide and panicked, her hands trembling slightly where they rest. “All I’ve done for weeks is care! I’ve been here every fucking second since you got hurt! I’ve done everything! Everything the doctors told me - everything I’m supposed to do to keep you safe and all you do is shout at me! Tell me how fucking selfish and controlling I am - how much you wish someone else was here to take care of you because maybe they wouldn’t make your life so much of a fucking prison. I get it! You want someone else! You hate being taken care of and you hate me for doing it– well too fucking bad! I’m trying to make sure you can get back to the life you miss so much, and you’re making it harder. Every. Single. Step of the Way! I can’t fucking take it anymore! If I stay here and listen to you say the shit you’ve been saying for the last few weeks–” 

It’s silent for a moment as Beth stares at her, openly horrified. 

Viv can feel the way the blood drains from her face, the guilt in her stomach sitting heavy like a stone, her breaths coming short and shaky in her chest. She bows her head, defeated, her voice barely audible when she speaks again. “Just– come inside. I’ll call Steph, you can have a break from me and spend time with her. Just come inside.”