"It's too loud," I whispered. "It's too fucking loud in this place."

Leo looked up from the law textbook he was mindlessly flipping through. "It's a hospital," he said. I glared at him and he dropped his voice to a whisper. "Not much they can do."

"But he needs to sleep," I said, gesturing to the bed. "How can he sleep when it's so loud here?"

An ambulance screamed by, drowning out his answer. Leo pressed his lips together and then gave up, shaking his head.

I drummed my fingers on my knee. I'd been doing that all morning, a bad habit I'd picked up...somewhere. In another life. Before Tate's fall.

Tate moaned and shifted in his bed. Outside of his room, a code alarm was going off. Skin crawling with helpless irritation, I leaped up from my chair and went to Tate's side. "You waking up, Tater Tot?" I said softly, pasting a smile across my face so he'd hear it in my words. Because Tate always knew when I was faking. "It's okay, you can sleep. You're not missing anything." I looked over at Leo who was watching us both. "Just me and Lee being boring together."

"I'm reading a text for law-school," Leo said, a little louder for Tate's benefit. "If you need help falling back to sleep I can read it aloud for you."

His eyelids fluttered. The skin under his eyes was a painfully dark purple. That was the first thing I noticed when they'd let me see him. Not the casts on his leg and arm, not the bandages wrapped tight to help his broken ribs heal correctly. I saw the awful exhaustion on his face.

Tate had always been the most beautiful of my brothers, with his long dark lashes and shock of dark auburn hair. But right now he looked like a zombie, pale and sick.

The door slid open. "Heyyyy," my mother whisper-sang, the voice she reserved for comforting sick children. "How are we all doing in here?"

I swallowed back a lump in my throat. As much as I needed it right now, that voice of comfort was not meant for me. My mother needed me to be her rock right now. "He's moaning a little," I told her. "When was the last time they gave him painkillers?"

She pressed her lips together tightly. "Too long ago," she spat. "They tell me they don't want him forming a habit."

"He's hurting," I protested. "He fell out of a window, three stories up."

My mother looked at me, unblinking. "Honey, you know he didn't fall, right?"

The lump in my throat wouldn't budge. No matter how hard I swallowed, it still sat there, burning and choking me. I blinked hard and then nodded.

I knew.

Everything in my chest was squeezed down into a ball, leaving a hollow ache where my heart should have been. Tate's roommate had called me last night, frantic. 5D had driven like something out of Nascar, getting me out onto Long Island in record time, but I was still the last one in my family to get there. I missed seeing him wheeled into surgery, but that wasn't the only thing I'd missed.

I'd missed the signs. I'd missed the warnings. The thought that Tate, my special little Tater Tot, could jump like this had never even occurred to me.

I'd failed him.

I cleared my throat but the lump was still lodged there. I turned and adjusted the covers around Tate's body, tucking them carefully around his broken arm. The door squeaked open and my youngest brother darted inside.

"How was the vending machine situation?" I asked Simon.

He shook his head, refusing to look in the direction of the bed. He hadn't looked at Tate once since he'd gotten here. I thought that he'd be scared, but the grim set of his suddenly shadowed jaw told me he was angry. Angry at our brother.

I walked over and patted him on the shoulder, circling around so he could look at me without seeing Tate. "Just give me another hour and I can take you home, does that sound okay?"

"Mom?" Simon said, not looking away from me.

Our mother was sitting at Tate's side, rhythmically patting Tate's hand. She wasn't going to handle this. I'd need to. "Did you want to go to school tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, quickly.

I nodded and patted him on the shoulder again. "Then I'll take you home so you can finish your homework. You should talk to a counselor when you go," I told him.

He grimaced. "Mrs. Devon smells like dirt."

"Yeah, you're right she kind of does. But she can help you."

"I don't need help." He twisted his shoulder towards the bed without moving his head. "He does."

I took a deep breath. "Simon," I said, warningly.

"Fine," he muttered.

"You can go sit in the waiting area if you want," I told him, placing significantly in Leo's direction.

Leo snapped his book closed. "I'll go sit with you, little man."

"I'm hungry," Simon muttered.

I stood up. "Where did you say Dad and Cab went for food?"

"They said McDonald's but knowing Cab he ate all of it on the car ride here and they had to go back."

I sighed and reached for my purse. "Here," I said, pulling out a five dollar bill. "Raid the good vending machines, they're on the first floor."

Simon grunted his thanks and followed Leo out the door. That was two people taken care of. "Hey mom?" I called gently. "Have you slept?"

My mother turned to me and blinked like the idea confused her. "I caught a quick nap in the chair this morning."

"I'm going to ask them to wheel in a bed for you, okay?" I told her, heading for the door.

"Okay honey," she said distantly.

I stepped out of Tate's room. The brightly lit hallway seemed weird cartoonish after the muzzy dark of my brother's room. I blinked and then blinked again, and then kept my eyes closed tight, wavering a little on my feet. I realized I could fall asleep right here, standing up.

But I still had to get my mom that bed. I forced my eyes open.

For a second I wondered if I had fallen asleep after all. If I was now dreaming. Or hallucinating from exhaustion. Because there was no way he was here.

I took two steps forward and crashed into his chest. He was real. "Hey, love," Jules murmured, stroking my hair back from my face. "I'm here. How can I help?"