Something pulled at Tiffany. Or was she Stephanie? She didn’t really know anymore. It all seemed a little muddled. Like she was a messy hodge podge, a hazy miasma of both Tiffany and Stephanie. Regardless, something pulled at her, from somewhere behind her navel, tugging her to…the surface of something? She wasn’t sure, but it felt like she was surfacing from the bubbly convoluted depths of something, somewhere.

And than like an explosion, her comforting silence was shattered and the noise came back tenfold louder than what was safe for human ears.

“We’re losing her! Give me another bag of O positive! Prep OR 3! Come on people! Let’s MOVE!”

And then she was moving and staring at streaks of quickly passing flickering fluorescent lights. There was an unbearable pressure on her chest, like they were trying to get her to confess to witchcraft by pressing. Tiffany, yes, it’s clearer to her now that she was Tiffany and not Stephanie, Tiffany wanted to scream but felt something bubble up from . Slowly, slowly rising like molten magma from a volatile volcano. It tasted like iron.

And then like the pressure had suddenly magically lifted, the iron magma spewed from like projectile vomit, splattering all over her oxygen mask in thick dark crimson clumps and sliding back down to clog her nose, , her life.

She was aware someone was screaming from somewhere from behind her and the voice sounded very familiar, but she couldn’t place it. And then…like a switch, she was Stephanie again, and the chaos was gone.

She sighed in relief.

Being Stephanie was nicer, much calmer, a lot less intrusive and loud.

Being Stephanie felt good.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They wheeled Tiffany into the ER and Jessica followed, never more than two steps away from her dying girlfriend.

No-no-no! She’s not dying! She can’t be dying! SHE’S NOT DYING YOU HEAR ME?! YOU SON OF A GODDAMN ! WHOEVER YOU ARE UP THERE! WHEN WILL YOU LEAVE HER BE?!?!

Jessica felt like passing out. She slapped herself hard in the face and forced herself to stay focused. Tiffany needed her. She needed her. She needed her…right?

Jessica looked down at herself and didn’t see blood. She only saw the chances of Tiffany living smeared all over her. She realized she must look like something out of a horror movie to everyone else in the hospital, but she didn’t care. She had no capacity to care about anything beyond that Tiffany shaped hole in her heart.

Just then there was a flurry of movements behind the curtains and something was shouted that Jessica feared to hear.

“We’re losing her! Give me another bag of O positive! Prep OR 3! Come on people! Let’s MOVE!”

Chaos erupted from behind the curtains and like a bomb had suddenly blown up, a team of doctors ran helter skelter with Tiffany’s stretcher towards what Jessica assumed was OR 3. Jessica ran right alongside them, trying to see Tiffany for as long as she was allowed. She could see Tiffany’s eyes fluttering and knew the younger girl was somewhat conscious. Just when Jessica wanted to say something to tell Tiffany she would be waiting for her, she saw Tiffany suddenly retch and throw up a large amount of clotted blood.

Jessica screamed in terror.

There was just so much blood.

Blood everywhere.

And Tiffany was choking.

Choking and dying.

That fear of Death became so damn real for Jessica right then and there.

She could feel him. He was the one holding Tiffany’s hands.

She wasn’t.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Stephanie was at the airport.

Dom was coming home.

Finally.

It had taken five full days for the military to process his leave.

She couldn’t wait. Dom would take care of everything. He would bring Lexi-belle home and Jaxon would start doing better and then the four of them would start to try and be ok again. Really, things were far from ‘ok’, but Stephanie had hope. They would make it somehow. They had to. She had to.

Stephanie completely ignored her foster people. People. Not parents. She only ever had one mom and one dad. They were her parents. That would never change.

They were standing there behind her with their own kid. Stephanie still refused to talk to them, or even look at them for that matter. But to their credit, they never gave up trying to include her in the things they did. Too bad Stephanie didn’t care enough to humor their feelings and their sympathy and pity for her.

Stephanie jumped up and threw her arms over the glass barrier, hanging over the railing by her armpits and keeping an eye out for any sign of her brother. She was aware this was probably the most lively her foster people had seen her. Most of the time she was just snuggling up with Jaxon or just sitting alone, staring off into space. They probably thought she was mentally disturbed or something. Maybe she was. But somehow, she felt Dom’s return would make it all a little less than ‘ok’. At least better than now.

She just kept waiting and waiting…and waiting.

She looked at the huge clock.

He was late.

By half an hour.

Stephanie started to panic.

Had he left her too? Was he killed in action right before he could leave? Did his plane crash on the way? Did his plane get hijacked and mowed into a skyscraper? Oh gawd her mind was running in a million directions…

And then thick arms were suddenly around her, turning her and clasping her tightly to a bulging muscled chest, tears soaking into her hair and running down her face, down her neck, into her shirt and just drowning her in bitterness and sorrow.

“Stephanie, oh Stephanie…baby…” and then Dominic couldn’t say anymore.

When he finally released his breathless hold on her, Stephanie could finally see the damage of everything on her older brother.

He was haggard. Unshaved. His clothes were wrinkled and would be considered an atrocity to anyone of military background. His eyes were tear-streaked and bloodshot red. His hair was messy and unkempt. And he lost a whole lot of weight.

Stephanie was twelve and really too old to be held like a toddler i