Title: Hit-and-Stay

Summary: "Fuck I feel like I got hit by a car… Wait I did? And it was your car?"

There was a pounding repeated pressure against the side of his skull, a deeply unpleasant sensation not unlike the times when Black*Star had dragged him to that horrendous nightclub that only played techno and all that other electronic crap. Soul grunted, a searing snap of pain shooting through his head as he slowly opened his eyes, only to shut them again because these fucking blank walls were blinding him with their whiteness.

"He's awake!"

There was a sharp gasp coming from his left, the squeaky jarring noise from hell of a chair being pushed roughly around and the sound of steps as Soul blinked and hissed. His hand shot up to to rub against his head only to be met with the rough texture of… bandages?

"Soul?"

He jerked his head to the left, bleary red eyes taking in two figures hunched over him.

"Wes? Wha?"

"Oh, thank God," came another voice, decidedly higher in pitch and feminine.

"Soul," Wes said carefully, his arm raised, undecided if he should touch him or not. "How are you feeling?" His brother's brows were furrowed, his face pale, his hair messy as he gripped the railing of the bed in a white-knuckled grip. Soul shifted in place, the blanket draped around him sliding against his skin. He was in a bed? In a hospital bed? He sniffed at the ugly drab hospital gown he was clad in and tentatively let his fingers graze the bandages around his head.

"I…" he began, licking his lips; his throat was parched! And-

"Fuck!" he exclaimed and Wes jolted from his spot against the railing with an expression of utmost panic. "I feel like I got hit by a car," Soul hissed as another flash of pain erupted in his temple and flared out sharply to the back of his head.

Wes heaved a sigh, his hands shaking. "That's because you were hit by a car." His brother's gaze might have been equipped with poison-tipped projectiles for all Soul knew; never had he seen Wes shoot someone such a blatant, unveiled glare as he did at the girl a few steps away from the bed. She flinched and lowered her head, her eyes downcast and morose.

Oh right. There was a girl in the room! But more importantly… he had been hit by a car?!

"Haaah?" He wasn't at his most eloquent right now, and Wes' expression softened, annoyance and panic melting away to that almost exasperated brotherly affection.

"You were hit by a car," Wes said softly, and carefully took a chair to lift it a few inches above the floor, mercifully sparing Soul from another dose of irritating chair-legs dragging over grey linoleum. His brother really was the best… sometimes at least. How much medication had they given him that he was thinking so fondly of Wes. Urgh. "By her car, in fact." Wes pointed at the girl who had kept to herself meekly in the background.

Soul blinked. Was there a proper way to greet the person who had ran you over? Was he even supposed to greet her? Probably not. He should be angry! Hell, he could be dying! He could have died! Okay, maybe it hadn't been that severe of an accident, since Wes was not fretting too much. His chances of recovery seemed fine or else his brother would be raising hell and threatening with lawsuits if they didn't manage to make Soul get back on his feet. But still! He hated hospitals; from the sterile smell to… to the fact that they were hospitals! People died in here! And he sure as hell didn't owe the person who ran him over a-

-oh! She was pretty!

Impossibly green eyes regarded him with dubious worry as his mouth quirked up and he said dazedly, "Heeeeey~"

Her eyebrows snapped up and she shifted on the soft, her small hands smoothing over the skirt - the short skirt - of her pink dress. There was a second of silence, and maybe he should have made an effort to sound less high when greeting such a pretty lady.

"Um, hey," she began uneasily, her gaze flitting back and forth from Wes to him. "I'm so sorry!" And with two steps she was right next to him and her eyes looked even more brilliant - like jades! - up close. "I really really am. I'm so glad that you woke up and you're okay, actually." She sighed, a small smile curving her lips as she wrung her hands and fiddled with the hem of her dress. "For a moment I thought I killed you," she whispered fearfully and took a shuddering breath that rattled small frame. "There was so much blood."

"I feel fine, no worries." A lie. His head was still pounding and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

"You were lucky that she was just backing out of the driveway. You hit your head on the pavement and got a concussion," Wes cut in, his jaw taut. "They'll probably keep you here for a few days just in case. Speaking of which, I… I will get the doctor." He regarded Maka with uncertain eyes before he nodded at Soul, his face still pale, and maybe it was Wes who needed to lie down, before he walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him quietly.

"Soooooo," Soul began in what he hoped was a conversational tone. "What's your name?"

The girl blinked, cocking her head to the side. "M-Maka. My name is Maka."

"Maka. It's such a pretty name. Almost as pretty as you!"

"Uh."

"And you're super pretty. Really! I mean okay, 'Maka' does sound a little weird I guess. I've never heard it before, but still pretty!"

"..."

"You also got a great pair of eyes. They're soooooo green." He chortled because really-

-he needed to shut up. His smile faltered. But much to his addled surprise she started to laugh, a rich tinkling sound that made his musician's heart clench with its beauty.

"You need to rest. And I should probably go once your brother is back. He really didn't want me to be here in the first place, but he was nice enough to let me stay and apologize to you." She slung a brown leather bag over her shoulder and smiled. "And I can't say it enough, I'm really sorry, Soul. I hope you'll get better soon."

"No, wait!"

"Huh?" She froze at the door, her ballet flats squeaking against the floor when she turned around with a sudden jerk of her body.

"You don't have to go because of my brother. It was an accident. I mean sure it sucks that I'm in the hospital because you weren't careful, but it's whatever."

"What?" Her eyes turned to steel, cold and unforgiving and did he say something wrong? Perhaps he needed to backpedal on his chattiness. Not that he ever was this chatty, but the drugs in his system made him way more talkative than his usual snarky and broody self. "Okay, you know, I didn't say anything, because who cusses out the person who ended up hospitalized?" She walked up to the bed again, arms crossed over her chest as Soul stared up at her. It was a nice view… until she let her arms fall to her sides, her fists clenched tightly. "But if anyone was careless, it was you. You were listening to music and not paying attention while you were riding that… orange monstrosity!"

"Hey! I had only one earbud in!" he said before sheer panic gripped his heart and knot lodged in his throat. "Wait, wait, wait! What happened to my bike?!"

"I have no idea because I was kind of distracted by your cracked skull and all the blood on my dad's driveway!"

"Noooooo," he whimpered, hazy eyes flashing with outrage. "Not my baby! I swear if there's even a scratch on my Harley-"

"It's just a stupid bike," she hissed, teeth gritted. "Just be happy that your stupidity didn't kill you."

"It's not just a bike, you big meanie!"

"Big…meanie?" she blinked, mouth agape before she sighed, her squared shoulders deflating together with her irritation. "You know what? I'm still sorry that you got here. And I should have paid more attention, to people who are hazards on the road… in the suburbs- just get better soon, okay?"

"Uuuuh."

She lazily waved into his direction before she gripped the doorknob.

"Let's have dinner!"

"What?" Maka turned around, eyebrows raised.

"Uh, because we're both sorry that we weren't paying attention and stuff?" Okay, even with his Swiss Cheese-esque brain, he knew that the shit that came out of his mouth transcended everything that had been uttered in the history of bullshitery. He was fucking hospitalized! Any dinner plans were ludicrous to begin with because he could not leave this bed. Not to mention, she was the reason he was here in the first place. And okay, he might have been careless, too.

"Um, okay? I mean, I will think about it. And tell you tomorrow." It might have sounded like a rejection, but she was smiling and he actually believed her. "See you soon." And with that she was gone.

Soul was still grinning from ear to ear when Wes came back with the doctor.