Hand sanitizer and rubbing alcohol perfumed the air, making Victor want to gag. Doctors and nurses milled about, examining patients and attending to their needs before moving onto others. Victor reclined on one of the hospital beds, clad in a blue gown, one of his arms set in a hard cast and one of his legs casted, as well, but it was nestled under the covers. He was hopped up on some pain medication, watching the scene before him.

"The toxicology report says you had Adderall and cannabis in your blood at the time of the accident," said the doctor, Rosetta Lee, peering over the top of her dark-rimmed glasses. "And yet, you don't have prescriptions for either of these things. You know, there are health benefits associated with both Adderall and cannabis but not when you self-medicate without knowing what you're doing. If you had gone just a little bit more to the left, and I'm talking an inch or two, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now, capiche?"

Victor gulped, his lip quivering. "I swear I wasn't high at the time of the accident, okay? Am I gonna get arrested? Will I be able to pay for the medical bills?"

"Listen to me, kid. You're lucky you're alive," Dr. Lee replied, her voice stern. "And also you probably won't be arrested but don't hold me to that. Blood screening tests pick up stuff you may have had within a few days but they're basically circumstantial when it comes to using it as hard evidence against you. We aren't legally allowed to snitch on you at this point. But if the cops come asking for a real drug test... I'm afraid we'll have to give one. As for medical bills... those are the least of your worries."

The steady beeping of the heart rate monitor Victor had been hooked up to doubled its pace as he listened to Dr. Lee explain. He'd literally just finished dealing with legal bullshit thanks to Derek, and now he was dealing with the possibility of catching an actual criminal charge, not just a civil one. On top of that, he'd have to eat through most of his savings to cover the bills, even with his dad's insurance. It was like he was incapable of not fucking up these days. He wanted to cry.

"I'm gonna need you to breathe," Dr. Lee said, rolling her eyes. "Can I get a nurse in here with some valium?"

A moment later, a nurse added a bag of valium to Victor's IV drip, sedating him. He couldn't wait for this day to be over, so he could be home in his bed.

"Anyway, as I was saying before your little... pre-anxiety attack," Dr. Lee continued her explanation, "you got off easy with a fractured sternum, and broken right arm and leg. We did have to do a little bit of surgery on your leg, though, since it was basically splintered. Not a pretty sight. You won't be doing a lot of walking and... whatever you do with your hand."

If Victor hadn't been on some heavy sedatives at that moment, he would be panicking again. "How long does this all need to heal? Does this mean I won't be able to play basketball? I'm gonna lose my scholarship!"

"It'll be several weeks, months, even. So yeah, no basketball. That sucks," Dr. Lee replied with a frown. "Anyway, you're free to go home as soon as someone comes to pick you up."

Victor buried his face in his hands. He hadn't told his parents yet, only Felix; he didn't want to deal with their reactions right now, and while he knew he would need to eventually, he didn't have the bandwidth. Even after all these attempts at keeping his head above water, even enlisting the help of his friends, Victor was drowning, and for real this time. If he got kicked from the team, he'd lose his scholarship and probably have to drop out of university. Maybe community college would be easier than the mess he had gotten himself into.

Dr. Lee left him alone, and he picked up his phone with his left hand, fiddling awkwardly with it. He used the side of his cast to steady it in his hand, but it was still strange only being able to type one-handed.

Grimacing, Victor saw that he had notifications from his friends; clearly Felix had been unable to keep the information to himself. Victor was happy they cared but also after his latest social interaction, he wanted nothing more than to retreat into his shell like the socially inept hermit crab.

"Hey, Vic!" Felix's voice cut him from his thoughts and he dropped his phone unceremoniously in his lap.

"Hey, Felix," Victor winced as the phone bounced off the hard plaster of the cast on his leg. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"No problem, bro. I gotchu," Felix said with a wink. He sat down at the chair next to Victor's bedside. "However, we may have an actual problem on our hands. Aside from, you know, all this," he gestured to Victor's cast-encased limbs before continuing, "because Benji was acting hella weird when I called him earlier. Do you wanna FaceTime him and tell him you're okay so he doesn't worry?"

"Oh... yeah, that might be a good idea," Victor replied. He didn't want his mind to go there, but perhaps the reason why Benji hadn't messaged him in all this time to ask how he was doing was because... something was wrong. "Could you dial him for me? It's hard with one fucked up hand."

Nodding, Felix did as Victor asked, handing him back his phone once he'd dialed. Raising an eyebrow, Victor checked to see if it was actually connecting or if he had pressed something else by accident. When it finally started ringing, he tried to push back the feeling of dread that threatened to shred through his psyche.

Finally, he heard sounds on the other end as an image came into view. It was Soledad, makeup tracks from her eyes mixing black and brown on her cheeks.

"Uh... Soledad? What's going on? Where's Benji?"

"He relapsed and mixed his pills with alcohol," Soledad sighed, letting out a shaky breath. "He's in the hospital."

Victor sat up, eyebrows furrowing as he gritted his teeth, tears burning at his eyes. "What the hell? Do you know why?"

"No... he wouldn't tell us," Soledad replied, sniffling. "I think he got a phone call earlier and whatever he'd heard made him lose his mind."

"Okay, wait. This is my fault," Felix said, holding his hand against his own chest. "I told him you were in the ICU and that you'd been in an accident and he must have thought it was really serious. But I didn't think he would do anything to himself."

Upon hearing this, Victor didn't know whether to be mad at Felix, Benji or himself; he figured it was almost an even split, with himself getting most of the blame and Felix getting 15% where Benji finally got a measly 10%. Or maybe Benji had the 15% and Felix the 10%. Either way, Victor was pissed. Benji had been doing so well.

Soledad let out a sad chuckle. "Ironic, isn't it, how you both ended up in the hospital on the same day... You're chaotic. It would be funnier if Benji weren't still unconscious, though."

Yeah, Felix had the 15%.

"Is there anything I can do?" Victor asked Soledad, biting his lip hard.

"Not really," Soledad said, her voice breaking a bit. "Just pray for him, I guess."

Looking down at his casted hand, Victor nodded, tears dripping down his face. "Okay. Let me know as soon as he wakes up."

"I will."

She hung up, and Victor wiped his face in his arm. He turned to Felix, his mouth set in a deep frown. "Just take me home. Please. "

With the help of the hospital staff, Victor settled into a wheelchair. When Felix went to push Victor out to the parking lot, however, they were greeted by a familiar yet extremely unwelcome face.

"Victor!" came Derek's voice from down the hospital corridor. "As soon as I heard what happened to you I rushed over here. Where the hell is Benji?"

"Are you joking? What are you talking about?" Victor asked, fingers on one hand gripping the armrest of the wheelchair. All he could think about was the image of Derek on the floor, cushioned in his own blood. He felt sick to his stomach. How the hell had Derek found him? He slowed his breathing down. Now was as good a time as any to try out some of his fancy anger management techniques.

"Get outta here, Derek. No one wants you here," Felix sighed.

"I'm asking you where my boyfriend is," Derek replied. "Tell me. I know you know. You see each other at Brasstown every day."

"We haven't worked at Brasstown together for months. And he's not your boyfriend, he's mine . How many times have we been over this?" Victor couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was glad he was already in the hospital because he knew he would burst at least one blood vessel from Derek's stupidity.

"Don't get smart with me--" Derek yelled, charging at Victor before Felix stepped between them. Some hospital staff took Derek by the arms in an attempt to restrain him. His sleeve caught and revealed the paper hospital bracelet around his wrist. Victor's eyes widened.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from using physical force against other patients," said one of the nurses as the other staff members tried to coax Derek to another part of the ICU.

"Poor kid's got amnesia," Victor overheard someone say a few feet away as they watched Derek leave, shaking their head. "He just woke up from a coma a few days ago, too. So sad."

Shaken, Victor's eyes stayed wide for a moment. He had never thought he would see Derek anytime soon. But he was glad he hadn't actually died, in the end. Despite the bizarre meeting, Victor felt a bit of a relief at knowing this. He was still perplexed about Derek's words, though. It made him seethe with rage to think that asshole still thought he was in a relationship with Benji, his Benji. He didn't want for anything more to come of that, but he didn't trust Derek one bit. And it was even worse and more dangerous now that he thought Benji and he were still together.

Without another word, Felix wheeled him to the car, and they finally began their journey home.

The ride was quiet, the silence acting like a shield between Victor and the world around him. But he knew sooner or later he would need to break the silence. And he trusted Felix almost as much as he trusted Benji and Mia. Or at least, as much as Mia. They were usually pretty closely tied for second place.

"I think I have to break up with Benji," Victor said out of nowhere.

Felix jammed on the breaks, causing the car behind them to honk at them as they went around them with their middle finger hanging out the window.

Pulling over, Felix pulled the emergency break and turned to Victor, eyes bulging out of his skull and looking a bit like a frog.

"Why would you say something so dumb? You sure you're not concussed?" Felix said, feeling Victor's forehead with the back of his hand before Victor gently moved his hand away, even though he really wanted to smack him away instead.

"Bro, stop that. I'm being serious," Victor replied. "I can't keep making him so worried about me. He relapsed because of me. He couldn't even think about going to London and actually enjoying himself because of me. And I'm pretty sure he takes pills because of me. "

"You can't blame yourself for his choices, though, Vic. If anything else that was huge and stressful came up he could have relapsed then, too. That's what can happen when you care about someone, but it's not a reason for you to give up on him," Felix countered. "But I understand you breaking up with him because you can't handle the responsibility of taking care of him as a partner. I get that. You barely have time to think let alone be a human being. So I respect your decision. Just don't blame yourself for all of this, because it's a two way street. And also, sometimes life is just a fucking trip."

"Ugh, it's hard not to feel guilty about this whole thing, though. I love him so much and I would rather him be on his own and alive than with me and slowly killing himself," Victor said, his voice brimming with love and sadness and regret and pain.

"I understand. Long-distance is definitely harder than most people expect, too. It can make relationship anxiety even worse," Felix sighed, resting a hand on Victor's shoulder.

Victor pulled him into an awkward half-hug, clapping his friend on the back with his cast. "Thanks for listening to me."

"You're still my best bro, obviously," Felix said with a toothy grin, but his eyebrows remained furrowed, taut with worry. "I know these past few months haven't been easy but I'm glad you're taking steps to put yourself first. You don't always have to be the one fixing everyone else's problems. It takes a toll after a while."

"Hmm... you're absolutely right," Victor exhaled. "And sometimes when you love someone you gotta set them free."

"Okay, facts," Felix replied. "So, when are you gonna talk to him? And what are you gonna say?"

"I wanna do it as soon as possible, so I'm gonna write a letter to organize my thoughts and then as soon as he's awake I'll... rip the bandaid off."

"That's such a... cold-blooded and un-Victor thing to do. You would always wait for the opportune moment for these sorts of things until you realized there... is no opportune moment, right?"

"Right. I hate that I have to do it, but... I think he'll be okay. He has friends in London. Maybe he'll acclimate better and think more about his future without me in the picture," Victor said, and as soon as he said the words, a tear slipped down his face. He didn't bother wiping it.

Felix first looked at his hands, saying nothing more as he raised his eyes to the dashboard and drove them both back home.