Change of plans, you guys get it first!

Paxton stood outside Quinn's hospital room, leaning against the whitewashed walls. There was something about hospitals that made him complacent. There was always a story to be found - always a soul needing saving, a life desiring death. A family praying to a deity they probably didn't believe in for a miracle they weren't sure they deserved. There was always something in hospitals. Like a nurse with a story, or a doctor with a record. Hospitals were never dull. It hadn't been so long ago that he had been a story in that very hospital. Not so long ago, he had been praying to a god, one that he had never believed in, for a miracle he was sure he never deserved; but a miracle he got. It came in the form of a girl, a small, caring girl who now was lying where he once did; suffering from the same injuries he had once endured, and praying the same prayers he had uttered.

His own life was a story; one he rarely told and scarcely liked to think about. One he wished, sometimes, that he never lived. A rough past made for a rough life, which led to multiple schools in the past three years and more lives than he cared to remember. It was easier to leave a place behind if it wasn't really him who lived there; so he would lie. He would make up aliases, and stories, and make a new person for every town he occupied.

This town had been no different than any of the ones before. No different until he had met her. She had swooped in, caring spirit and baby wipes in hand and taken care of a person she had never met before that day. He was barely awake for most of it. All he could really make out was the sound of her voice, the smell of the antiseptic on the wipes, and the short ride to the hospital. When he had finally come to, sore and confused, a nurse had come in to check on him. His body ached, his ribs unwelcomingly sore, and memory annoyingly fuzzy. When he finally managed to get his mouth to cooperate, he questioned the nurse.

"How did I get here?" his voice came out raspy and sounded almost foreign to him.

She had smiled politely, "You were brought here, sweetie." She said, going about checking him. "A young girl brought you here with her brother."

He nodded, racking his brain for the missing information.

"Whom?"

The nurse's smile wavered a little. "Mercer, Quinn Mercer." She said. There was a tone he couldn't identify in her voice.

Curious, he prodded more. "Does she work here?" How did this nurse know who she was?

The nurse shook her head. "No, but she comes in here at least once a week with…others such as yourself."

Now he was confused. "Others like me? What do you mean?"

"Enough questions, now, you need to get some rest." She tucked in the corner of his sheet before leaving the room.

Aggravated, he made it his goal to find out who this girl was, and what her motive was. She hadn't been easy to track down. No Quinn Mercer was shown on any of the attendance sheets; it was like a Quinn Mercer didn't exist. When the commotion had begun in the cafeteria earlier that day, it was like a sadistic answer to prayers. The girl who claimed to be Quinn Mercer all but through herself at the mercies of the group that claimed to be royalty. She stood, elevated above the rest, and was beaten mercilessly. When all was said and done, the girl lay crippled and defeated on the cool ceramic floor of the cafeteria.

Paxton knew what he had to do. He knew he owed her that much, but he couldn't move. Quinn laid there, breathing heavily, trying in vain to push herself up, to no doubt try and get herself somewhere she could nurse her injuries without fear of the group coming back. Stumbling, arms weak from the beating, they gave out and she fell hard; face pressed against the floor. He could hear small, pathetic whimpers emanate from her; no doubt some of her ribs fractured, if not broken.

Gathering all his courage, he stood up from his spot at the back; cautiously making his way towards the girl. His heart hurt to look at her. Had she hesitated before coming to help him? Had she thought about turning and leaving him there to struggle and suffer?

Shaking his head, attempting to clear his thoughts, he knelt down beside her, reaching a hand out to smooth her hair out of her face.

"Hey easy now," he said, trying to ease her as best he could.

"I've never seen anything like that. You sure are something else." he went on. Quinn seemed to relax a little the more he talked to her. "Shit, they sure did a number on you. Let's get you cleaned up a bit, okay sweetie?" he wrapped his hands around her shoulders, gently lifting her to a sitting position. Quinn moaned as her ribs screamed in pain at being moved. "I know I'm sorry. I'll work as fast as I can." He said.

Very gently, he began wiping her face down with wet wipes; he wasn't one hundred percent sure why, but he began carrying them around with him ever since that first day. Quinn tried to speak, but her words got tangled in her mouth the more she tried.

"It's okay." He said, putting the wipes away. "I'm going to get you to a hospital. You might have some cracked ribs."

Quinn nodded, losing strength by the second. Gently, he leaned her head against his shoulder, slipping one hand behind her back and the other under the crook of her legs. As smoothly as he could, he lifted her off the floor.

"How are you doing, sweetie?" Quinn did her best to nod, her head bouncing around like a bobble head doll. "Good, let's get you out of here."

As quickly, and gently, as he could, Paxton made his way out a side door and towards his car. He had parked near the rear of the school, hell bent on becoming insignificant for the rest of the year. He was almost at his car when his path was blocked by a very tall male. Paxton stopped dead in his tracks; getting more and more nervous. Was this round two? Had this guy followed them so he could beat them both?

"Where do you think you're taking her?" the stranger demanded, staring Paxton down hard.

Paxton swallowed hard before answer. "I'm taking her to the hospital." Quinn stirred in his arms. "Please, let me by."

The boy came closer, steely gaze locked on the girl in his arms. Lifting a hand, he gently moved hair out of Quinn's face. Paxton stood frozen, unsure of what his reaction should be.

Lifting his eyes to Paxton's, the boy gave him a small smirk. "Relax, I'm her brother." Was all he said before reaching out his arms to take her from him.

"No," Paxton said, taking a step back. "How can I trust you?" he could feel his knees starting to shake.

The boy gave him a hard stare. "You're just going to have to."

Paxton's mind raced, still unsure if he could trust this guy. The girl in his arms stirred, turning her head towards the boy in front of them.

"Jackie," it came out as a whimper.

"I'm right here, Quinnie." He said, reaching a hand out to her. "Good enough?" he said to Paxton.

Reluctantly, he nodded and let the boy take her out of his arms.

"My cars over here, she needs to go to a hospital." He led the way to his beater of a car. Unlocking the door, he took Quinn from the boy, allowing him to slide in to the back seat before easing Quinn in beside him.

When they had gotten there, the boy seemed to know exactly what to do. It was obviously not his, or Quinn's first time in that hospital. She was taken away for tests and care, and the boy had left, saying something about being back in a while. Unsure, again, of what he should do, Paxton waited. An hour later a nurse had come to tell him that Quinn had been placed in a room and that he could go see her if he wanted.

He had sat at the end of her bed for twenty minutes; counting each one as it passed. What was he doing there? He didn't even know this girl and here he was sitting at the foot of her freaking hospital bed while she slept! He wasn't Edward Cullen for Pete's sake! This was ridiculous, he should have left after she was admitted, but no he had stayed.

Aggravated, he got up to leave, then sat back down, then stood, then sat once more. This was silly! He threw his hands up in exasperation. He should just leave. What was keeping him here? Why did he feel the need to stay by her side? She was a capable young girl, and that boy said he would be back; so why should he stay?

Paxton was about to get up to leave, for the third time, when Quinn began to stir. Sitting up straight, he leveled his gaze with her, trying to steady his erratic breathing. Slowly her eyes began to open, and, after a few seconds, her eyes settled on him.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" he asked. Why was he continually calling her sweetie?

She blinked repeatedly, no doubt trying to clear her vision. Her face gave no indication that she recognized him, but that was understandable. She laid there quite for a long while before she attempted to say something.

"…water," she croaked.

"Hold on," He said, getting up and moving over to the table beside her bed.

He grabbed the plastic blue cup and brought it over to her. Slipping a hand under her back, he lifted her forward and brought the cup to her lips. Tilting it slowly, he held it for her as she drank thirstily. When she had finished the cup, he poured her a second; which she finished just a fast as she had finished the first. Leaning back, he set her back against her pillow, returned the cup to the table, and returned to his spot at the foot of her bed.

"Thank you," she said, placing a hand over her middle section.

"You're welcome," he said with a nod.

"I…" Quinn started but stopped.

He gave a soft laugh and crossed his arms over the metal footboard, placing his chin on his arms. "You want to know who I am." He said. When she nodded, he gave her a kind smile. "You could say we are…old friends." He was slipping into one of his many personas, trying to keep things as light as possible; it was working. When she gave him a confused look, he stood up and came around to the side of her bed. He gingerly sat down on the edge of her bed and leaned in closer to her face. "Think, Quinn." He said, staring her in the eyes.

He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, trying to figure out who this stranger was.

"I can't…I don't… "

"Think." He said kindly. "We have something in common; something very big in common."

Looking into his green eyes she searched for the answer. She knew it, she had to. She had to.

She gave a small gasp, "Canada."

Bobby had gotten the phone call from the hospital half an hour ago. Quinn had gotten herself into one of her messes, and he was a wreck now because of it. He had dropped the phone where he stood and barged out the door. Lumbering into his crappy old car, he tore out of the drive way, and sped through traffic; not stopping for lights or cops or pedestrians as he made a treacherous venture to the hospital. He paid no attention to law or road signs as he got closer and closer to his destination.

This, granted, was not Quinn's first time being admitted to the hospital; she was a fucking Mercer for Pete's sake. She had faired her own share of broken bones, fractured ribs, sprained ankles and the sorts; but that never stopped Bobby from making sure he was always there when she was admitted. She would never fully admit it – especially not now with things as they were – but she wanted him there as much as he wanted to be there. She was a baby, deep down. She needed him more than she knew; and he would always be there for her; regardless of family circumstances.

This "Mercer" "Tregan" ordeal was far from dealt with, but Quinn had obviously done something to try to prove herself. She was never one for violence, never one for brawn over brain, hit first ask questions later. This is what had made Bobby nervous when he got the call. Out of the five of them, she was the most level headed; except when it came to them. Bobby knew it was only a matter of time before she snapped, and that morning had obviously been her final straw; and now she had gone and gotten herself admitted to the hospital.

Taking a hard right turn, Bobby careened into the hospital parking lot. Pulling right up to the main doors, he slammed the car into park before throwing the door open and climbing out.

"Sir!" a voice yelled after him as he walked through the electric doors. "Sir, you can't park there!" the voice pestered.

Bobby didn't even turn to look as he raised his hand and flipped the owner of the persistence voice the bird. He was through the doors before the voice could persist any more. Making a direct line for the front desk, he eyed up the young nurse sitting behind the counter. Clearly seeing his approach, she scrabbled with the papers in front of her; she clearly knew who Bobby was, and what he wanted.

"Room 215, second floor, right out of the elevator." She said before he could ask.

With a nod, Bobby averted his path towards the elevator. Taking several steadying breaths, he readied himself for whatever might be on the other side of the metal doors. Preparing for the worst always made reality easier to cope with. If he was ready to deal with broken ribs, shattered femur, or smashed in face, he was able to face what the real damage was. He uttered a small, silent prayer as the doors hissed open and he walked towards Quinn's room.

Bobby wasn't surprised to See Jack and Angel standing outside the door, arguing about something. Jack was on the defense as Angel laid into him; of what, Bobby was about to find out. Approaching the two, he clapped Jack on the back, gave Angel a nod before beginning with his questions.

"Fill me in, boys." He said, turning to look in through Quinn's open door. "What's the damage?"

"This dipshit let her get beat up." Angel said, giving Jack a pointed look.

Bobby's eyes widened as he turned his attention to his baby brother, "Is that right, Cracker Jack?"

Jack took a deep breath through his nose, switching his weight from one foot to the other, "It ain't like that, Bobby. Angel's overreacting."

"Two broken ribs, three bruised ribs, and a concussion ain't no exaggeration, man!" Angel retorted, smacking Jack on the back of the head.

"What?" Bobby asked, dumbfounded. He turned his full attention on Jack; shocked beyond belief by what he was hearing. "Tell me this ain't true, Jack."

"Look!" Jack cried, running his hand through his shaggy hair. "You weren't there. She wanted this." He pointed in Quinn's direction. Jack began telling them the entire account from when Quinn had pushed through the crowd, up until Jack had helped get her to the hospital. "She got up on that table, by herself, and picked this fight, by herself," he Looked Bobby straight in the eyes. "You would have been proud of her, man. She was bad ass."

"She wanted to prove herself," Angel said with a sigh. "Man…"

"She wanted to apologize." Bobby said, walking away from his brothers.

With light steps, he approached Quinn's bed. She was bandaged up, bruised, and half asleep. Gently, Bobby sat on the edge of her bed, waking her up fully. She rolled her head from one side to the other, looking for the source of disturbance. When her eyes found his, her bottom lip began to quiver. She did her best to smile, but failed miserably before she covered her face with her hand and let out a sob. Bobby's heart softened a little as he reached out a grabbed her hand, removing it from her face and forcing her to look at him. She choked on a small sob as she met his gaze with hers. Mad or not, ashamed or not, she was, and always would be, his baby sister.

"Damn it, Quinn," he said, giving her hand a light squeeze, "A fucking card would have been good enough."

She managed a laugh at that, rubbing her nose with her other hand.

"No, it wouldn't have," she sniffed loudly.

Bobby shrugged, "No, but it would have been a hell of a lot less painful; and expensive!" he threw his hand up, gesturing around the room. "How the fuck do you expect to pay for this?"

Quinn shook her head, "I'd taking of stripping, but I'm fat and can't dance." he laughed at that. "Bobby…" she said timidly.

Bobby looked at her, small and battered under the thin hospital sheet that covered the rest of the damage. She looked more scared than Bobby had ever seen her.

"Yeah, Quinnie-Bear?"

She took a deep breath, lip quivering again. "I'm sorry." It was scarcely a whisper.

Bobby closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before gently grabbing her by the hands, and pulling her into a hug. She really broke then, her body shaking as sobs rattled through her. Several more muffled apologies emanated from her as she tried to desperately make right her wrongs.

"Hey," he said, pulling her back from him. "Family," that was all it took for her to really break down; loud, heart breaking sobs began to roll out of her.

A nurse came in, displeasure etched on her face. "She needs to rest, this isn't good for her injuries." She stated. Coming over to Quinn, she grabbed one of the IVs and inserted a need into the end of one of the tubes. Bobby rocked Quinn as the nurse injected, what Bobby assumed, something to put her to sleep. It didn't take long for Quinn to pass out. Bobby leaned her back onto the pillow, covering up with the thin blankets before going to talk to his brothers.

Things were different now. Quinn had taken on something Bobby feared was bigger than she. He needed to discuss this with his brothers. If Quinn wanted to prove herself, Bobby wasn't about to stop her; but he wasn't going to let her do anything else that would land her in the hospital.

"So," Angel said as Bobby rejoined them in the hall. "What's the plan?"

Bobby smirked, "We're gonna wing it."

"There was some kid here when we showed up. Jack said he drove them both here after the incident; says he cleaned Quinn up after it was over." Angel informed him, Jack nodded his agreement.

"Well," Bobby said, looking both his brothers in the eyes, "We'll start there."

Happy Reading. Sorry if it's rough.
3 Yorkie-s