Work Text:
The studio already smelled like sweat, vanilla body spray, and the faint burnt-toast scent of overworked speakers when they got there. It was one of those rehearsal days—the kind where nobody really wanted to be there, but also nobody wanted to be the one who slacked.
Megan flopped onto the hardwood floor dramatically, one arm over her face.
“Bro, if we run that chorus one more time, I’m actually going to pass away. Like, you guys will have to explain to my mom that I died doing an eight-count.”
Daniela snorted, dropping her bag next to her and nudging her leg with her sneaker.
“You say that every rehearsal.”
“And one day I’ll be right,” Megan shot back, peeking at her through her fingers.
Across the room, Manon was already stretching like her life depended on it, calm and focused as always. Lara was messing with the speaker, trying to get the playlist to cooperate, while Yoonchae scrolled through her phone, half-present, half in another universe.
Sophia stood near the mirror, tying her hair up into a tighter ponytail, watching everyone through the reflection.
“Okay, clowns,” Lara finally announced, clapping her hands once as the speakers crackled to life. “We have, like, two weeks until this is filmed. Can we please act like we care?”
“We do care,” Megan mumbled from the floor.
“Then get up.”
Daniela extended a hand down to her. Megan took it, letting Dani pull her up with a little extra force that made her stumble forward into her.
“Whoa,” Megan laughed, grabbing onto her shoulders. “Trying to kill me before rehearsal even starts?”
Daniela smirked, but there was that softness in her eyes that always gave her away.
“Focus. You’re the one who said you’d die if we run it again.”
“Yeah, but like… metaphorically.”
“Sure.”
They took their spots, lining up instinctively. The music started—low at first, then building—and just like that, the complaining energy shifted into something sharper, more intentional.
Run one was fine.
Run two was better.
By run three, they were locked in.
Feet hitting on the same counts, arms slicing through the air in sync, breaths heavy but controlled. The kind of rhythm that only came from doing the same thing over and over until your body didn’t need to think anymore.
“Again,” Lara called, not even waiting for the track to fully stop.
“Again?” Yoonchae groaned.
“Again.”
Megan wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, glancing at Daniela.
“If I collapse, you’re carrying me out.”
Daniela didn’t even hesitate.
“Obviously.”
Sophia shifted slightly in her spot, rolling her shoulders out. She was always precise—almost too precise sometimes. Every move sharp, every angle exact.
The music restarted.
Five, six, seven, eight—
They moved.
Everything was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
It happened fast. Too fast for anyone to really process in the moment.
There was a transition in the choreography—a quick turn, a step forward, arms swinging outward. They’d done it a hundred times already.
But this time, Sophia stepped just a little too far.
Megan stepped just a little too close.
And—
CRACK.
The sound was awful. Not loud, not dramatic—just sharp enough to cut through the music and make everyone freeze.
Megan’s head snapped back slightly, and then she just… stood there.
For half a second, nobody moved.
Then—
“OH MY GOD—”
The music cut abruptly as Lara scrambled for the speaker.
“Megan?” Daniela was already there, grabbing her shoulders. “Babe? Hey—hey, look at me.”
Megan blinked slowly.
“...Did someone just—” She paused, frowning slightly. “Wait.”
Her balance wavered.
Daniela tightened her grip immediately.
“Whoa, whoa—sit down, sit down.”
“I’m fine,” Megan insisted, but her voice sounded… off. Distant. Like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else.
“You are not fine,” Manon said firmly, already moving to clear space on the floor.
Sophia stood frozen where she was, her hand still half-raised from the move, her face draining of color.
“I didn’t—I didn’t mean—” she stammered.
“It’s okay, Soph,” Yoonchae said quickly, even though her eyes were wide with concern. “Just—hold on.”
Daniela guided Megan down carefully, kneeling in front of her.
“Hey. Stay with me, okay?” she said, her voice steady but tight. “Look at me.”
Megan squinted at her.
“I am looking at you.”
“No, like—actually look at me,” Daniela insisted, gently cupping her face. “Focus.”
Megan blinked again, slower this time.
“…Why is everything kind of… spinning?”
Daniela’s stomach dropped.
“Yeah, okay. Cool. Love that,” she muttered under her breath, then louder, “You might have a concussion.”
“A what?”
“A concussion, babe.”
Megan let out a small, confused laugh.
“From Sophia? Damn. Didn’t know she had that in her.”
Sophia made a small, horrified noise.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”
“Not the time,” Lara cut in gently, placing a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. “She didn’t mean it. Accidents happen.”
“But I—”
“Sophia,” Manon said, calm but firm. “We need to focus on Megan right now.”
Sophia nodded quickly, pressing her lips together, guilt written all over her face.
Daniela turned back to Megan.
“Okay. I need you to stay awake, alright?”
“I’m awake,” Megan said, but her eyelids were already drooping slightly.
“Nope. No sleeping. That’s like… the number one rule,” Daniela said, panic creeping into her tone despite her efforts to stay calm. “You’re not allowed to sleep right now.”
“Rude,” Megan murmured.
“Yeah, well, deal with it.”
Megan swayed again, and Daniela immediately pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her to keep her steady.
“Hey. Hey—stay with me,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of Megan’s face. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Anything. Literally anything.”
Megan frowned, thinking.
“…You still owe me boba.”
Daniela blinked.
“…What?”
“You said last week,” Megan continued slowly, words slightly slurred at the edges, “that you’d buy me boba because I carried that one run.”
Daniela huffed out a shaky laugh.
“Yeah, okay. Sure. I’ll buy you like… ten bobas. Just—stay awake, okay?”
“Make it twelve.”
“Done.”
“Okay.”
Megan leaned her head against Daniela’s shoulder.
“Hey—nope,” Daniela said immediately, gently lifting her head back up. “No leaning. Eyes open.”
Megan groaned.
“You’re so annoying.”
“And you love me,” Daniela shot back.
“…Unfortunately.”
That earned a weak smile.
“Good. Stay like that,” Daniela said, relief flickering through her chest. “Keep talking.”
Meanwhile, Lara had already grabbed her phone.
“I’m calling someone,” she said. “We should get her checked out, like, ASAP.”
“Yeah,” Manon agreed. “That hit sounded bad.”
Yoonchae hovered nearby, looking between Megan and Sophia.
Sophia hadn’t moved much. She was still standing a few feet away, arms wrapped around herself, eyes fixed on Megan like she was afraid to blink.
“I really didn’t mean to,” she whispered again, more to herself this time.
Yoonchae stepped closer, nudging her gently.
“She’s gonna be okay. It was an accident.”
Sophia swallowed hard.
“I hit her so hard.”
“You didn’t know,” Yoonchae said softly. “It happens.”
Back on the floor, Daniela was still focused entirely on Megan.
“Okay, quick test,” she said. “What’s your name?”
Megan stared at her.
“…Are you serious?”
“Answer the question.”
“Megan.”
“Full name.”
Megan rolled her eyes.
“You know my full name.”
“Humor me.”
Megan sighed dramatically, then recited it. "Megan Meiyok Skiendiel."
“Okay, good,” Daniela said. “Do you know where you are?”
“The studio.”
“And what were we doing?”
“Rehearsal.”
“And who hit you?”
Megan turned her head slightly, squinting at Sophia.
“…The strongest woman alive,” she said weakly.
A few of them let out small, relieved laughs.
Sophia did not look reassured.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again, her voice cracking.
Megan blinked at her, trying to focus.
“…It’s okay,” she said slowly. “Lowkey iconic, actually.”
“Iconic?” Daniela repeated incredulously.
“Yeah. I got taken out mid-choreo. That’s like… dramatic.”
“You’re concussed,” Daniela said flatly.
“Yeah, probably.”
Her eyes started to close again.
“Hey—nope,” Daniela said quickly, tapping her cheek lightly. “Stay with me.”
Megan groaned.
“Let me sleep.”
“No.”
“Just like… five minutes.”
“Nope.”
“You’re literally evil.”
“And you’re literally not sleeping,” Daniela shot back, her voice softening immediately after. “Come on. Stay awake for me, okay?”
Megan opened her eyes again, looking at her.
There was something vulnerable there now, under the confusion.
“…Okay.”
Daniela squeezed her hand.
“Good.”
Lara came back over.
“Alright, we’re getting her to a doctor,” she said. “Like, now.”
“Yeah,” Manon agreed. “We shouldn’t wait.”
Daniela nodded.
“Okay. Can you stand?” she asked Megan gently.
Megan considered it.
“…Maybe.”
“Cool. Let’s try.”
With help from Daniela—and Manon on the other side—they carefully got Megan to her feet.
She wobbled immediately.
“Yeah, okay, nope,” Daniela said. “We’re not trusting that.”
“I can walk,” Megan insisted.
“You can barely exist right now,” Daniela countered.
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
They started guiding her toward the door anyway, slow and careful.
Sophia moved aside quickly, still looking like she wanted to disappear.
As Megan passed her, she paused slightly.
“…You hit like a truck,” she mumbled.
Sophia looked like she might cry.
“I’m so sorry—”
“It’s fine,” Megan said, already losing focus again.
Daniela tightened her grip on her.
“Eyes open, Meg.”
“They are open.”
“Barely.”
“Still counts.”
Daniela shook her head, but there was a small smile there despite everything.
“Just… stay with me, okay?”
Megan leaned into her slightly—but this time, Daniela kept her upright.
“…Okay,” Megan said again, softer this time.
And Daniela didn’t let go of her hand the entire way out.
By the time they made it out of the studio, the energy had completely shifted.
No more music. No more joking (well… less joking). Just this low, tense urgency that followed them out into the hallway and into the street.
It was already getting dark—typical—because of course this would happen at the end of the day when everything felt harder.
“Okay, we’re not walking,” Lara said immediately, pulling out her phone again. “No way.”
“Yeah, absolutely not,” Manon agreed. “She can barely stand.”
“I can stand,” Megan protested weakly, leaning like 60% of her weight into Daniela.
Daniela didn’t even look at her.
“You are literally hanging off me.”
“…I’m conserving energy.”
“Yeah, for what? Sleeping? Not allowed.”
Megan groaned.
“You’re so strict.”
“You got a concussion, babe. I’m not risking anything.”
Sophia hovered nearby again, still quiet, still looking like she was one wrong word away from spiraling.
Yoonchae nudged her lightly.
“Hey. You okay?”
Sophia shook her head.
“No. I literally knocked her out.”
“She’s not knocked out,” Yoonchae said gently. “She’s talking.”
“Barely.”
“Still counts.”
Sophia glanced over at Megan, who was currently squinting at a streetlamp like it had personally offended her.
“…She looks so out of it.”
“Yeah,” Yoonchae admitted. “But she’s with Dani. She’s good.”
That didn’t fully convince Sophia, but it helped a little.
Lara finally waved her phone triumphantly.
“Okay, ride’s two minutes away. Everyone breathe.”
“Slay,” Megan murmured.
Daniela tightened her arm around her.
“Hey. Eyes.”
“They’re open,” Megan said again, though one was definitely more closed than the other.
“Not enough.”
Megan sighed like she had been personally wronged by the universe.
“Can I at least blink?”
“Yeah, blinking is allowed. Sleeping is not.”
“Literally 1984.”
“Girl—”
The car pulled up, cutting off whatever Daniela was about to say.
Manon opened the door quickly while Lara spoke to the driver.
“Hey, sorry—she hit her head pretty hard, we’re going to a doctor.”
The driver nodded, already unlocking the back seats.
“Get in, get in.”
Daniela carefully guided Megan inside, sliding in next to her and immediately pulling her close again so she wouldn’t tip over.
Manon and Lara squeezed in after, while Yoonchae and Sophia took the other side.
It was cramped. It was chaotic. It was exactly what they needed.
The moment the door shut, Megan leaned her head against Daniela’s shoulder again.
“Nope,” Daniela said instantly, lifting her head. “Up.”
“Why do you hate me,” Megan mumbled.
“I literally love you. That’s why I’m doing this.”
“Debatable.”
Daniela huffed out a breath, brushing her thumb gently along Megan’s jawline.
“Hey. Stay with me.”
Megan blinked slowly.
“…You’re pretty.”
Daniela froze for half a second.
“…Okay, concussion Megan is wild.”
“I’m serious,” Megan insisted, her words a little slurred. “Like, actually. Have I told you that today?”
“Yeah. This morning. And yesterday. And like… every day.”
“Good,” Megan said, satisfied. “Just checking.”
Lara snorted from the front.
“Not her flirting mid-concussion.”
“Let her,” Yoonchae said. “If she stops talking, that’s worse.”
“Fair.”
Daniela nodded slightly, still focused.
“Yeah, keep talking, Meg.”
“About what?”
“Anything. Tell me… uh…” Daniela glanced around desperately for a topic. “Tell me your favorite song right now.”
Megan frowned.
“…I forgot.”
“That’s okay. Pick another one.”
“…Wait, no, I know it.”
“Okay, what is it?”
Megan opened her mouth.
Then paused.
Then frowned harder.
“…Wait.”
Daniela’s stomach dropped again.
“Hey—it’s okay. Don’t stress. Just—talk about something else.”
Megan looked at her, a little more alert now, like she could sense the shift.
“…Are you scared?” she asked quietly.
Daniela swallowed.
“…A little.”
Megan reached out clumsily, grabbing her hand.
“I’m okay,” she said.
Daniela squeezed her fingers back.
“I know. I just… want to keep it that way.”
For a moment, everything went quiet again except for the hum of the car and the city passing by outside.
Sophia stared down at her hands.
“I seriously didn’t mean to,” she said suddenly, her voice small.
Megan blinked at her from across Daniela’s shoulder.
“…I know.”
“I wasn’t paying attention to my spacing and I just—” Sophia cut herself off, shaking her head. “I should’ve been more careful.”
“It’s choreography,” Manon said calmly. “Mistakes happen.”
“Not like that.”
“Sometimes like that,” Lara added gently. “We’re human, Soph.”
Sophia didn’t look convinced.
Daniela spoke up this time, her tone softer but steady.
“Hey. It’s not your fault.”
Sophia looked up.
“I hit her.”
“And she stepped forward at the same time,” Daniela said. “It was bad timing. That’s it.”
Sophia hesitated.
“…You’re not mad?”
Daniela glanced down at Megan, who was currently trying to count her own fingers and looking deeply confused about it.
Then she looked back at Sophia.
“No,” she said simply. “I’m worried. That’s different.”
Sophia’s shoulders dropped slightly, tension easing just a little.
“…Okay.”
“Also,” Megan added suddenly, still staring at her hand, “you have, like, insane strength. Respect.”
“Megan—” Daniela started.
“I’m just saying.”
Despite everything, a small laugh broke through the tension.
The car finally slowed to a stop.
“We’re here,” the driver said.
“Thank you,” Lara said quickly, already reaching for the door.
They piled out just as fast as they’d gotten in.
Daniela was careful pulling Megan out, keeping one arm firmly around her waist.
“Alright. Almost there,” she murmured.
Megan squinted at the building.
“…Hospitals are ugly.”
“This isn’t even a hospital,” Yoonchae said.
“Still ugly.”
“Focus,” Daniela said gently. “Walk with me.”
“I am walking.”
“You’re wobbling.”
“Same thing.”
“Not even close.”
Inside, everything smelled like antiseptic and fluorescent lighting.
Lara rushed up to the front desk while the others guided Megan to a chair.
Daniela didn’t sit—she stayed crouched in front of her instead, hands on her knees.
“Hey. Eyes.”
Megan blinked.
“…You’re still here.”
“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.”
Her eyes started to drift again.
Daniela leaned forward slightly, tapping her cheek gently.
“Nope. Stay with me.”
“Five minutes,” Megan mumbled.
“No.”
“You’re actually the worst.”
“And you’re actually staying awake.”
Megan sighed dramatically.
“…Fine.”
After a few minutes that felt way longer than they actually were, Lara came back.
“They’re taking her in now.”
“Thank god,” Daniela muttered under her breath.
A nurse approached, giving them a quick, assessing look.
“Head injury?”
“Yeah,” Manon said. “She got hit during rehearsal. Hard.”
The nurse nodded.
“Alright, let’s get her checked.”
Daniela immediately stood.
“I’m coming with her.”
The nurse glanced at her, then nodded.
“One person.”
Daniela didn’t even look back—she was already guiding Megan forward.
“C’mon, Meg.”
Megan leaned into her again, more heavily this time.
“…You better still buy me boba after this.”
Daniela let out a quiet, shaky laugh.
“I’ll buy you anything you want. Just keep talking to me.”
“Okay,” Megan said softly.
And as they disappeared down the hallway, Daniela’s grip on her hand tightened just a little more—like she could anchor her there just by not letting go.
The hallway felt way too long.
Like, objectively, it probably wasn’t—but Daniela swore it stretched forever, each step echoing too loudly, each second dragging just enough to make her chest feel tight.
Megan leaned heavier against her now, her steps uneven, like her body had forgotten how walking worked.
“Hey, hey—stay up,” Daniela murmured, adjusting her grip around her waist. “We’re almost there.”
“…I’m literally walking,” Megan mumbled.
“You’re barely vertical.”
“Still counts.”
“Not how that works.”
The nurse pushed open a door and gestured them inside.
“Sit her here.”
Daniela helped Megan onto the exam bed, keeping one hand on her the entire time, like if she let go, Megan might just drift off and disappear.
“Alright,” the nurse said, already grabbing a small flashlight. “I’m going to ask you a few questions, okay?”
Megan blinked slowly.
“…Okay.”
“What’s your name?”
“Megan.”
“Full name?”
Megan answered, a little slower this time.
The nurse nodded, then flicked the light on, gently shining it into Megan’s eyes.
“Look straight ahead.”
Megan squinted.
“That’s bright.”
“I know. Just hold still.”
Daniela hovered right beside her, one hand resting lightly on Megan’s arm, thumb brushing back and forth absentmindedly.
“Stay with me, yeah?” she whispered.
Megan turned her head slightly toward her.
“…You’re still here.”
Daniela gave a small smile.
“Told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
The nurse continued her checks—eyes, reaction time, basic questions.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Doctor place.”
“…Close enough,” the nurse said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“See? I’m doing great,” Megan mumbled.
Daniela huffed softly.
“Debatable.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
The nurse straightened slightly.
“Alright. She’s definitely showing signs of a concussion—dizziness, confusion, delayed responses.”
Daniela’s stomach dropped a little, even though she’d already known.
“Is it… bad?” she asked.
“It doesn’t seem severe,” the nurse said reassuringly. “But concussions are still serious. We’ll have a doctor come in to assess her further.”
Daniela nodded quickly.
“Okay. Okay, good.”
Megan tilted her head slightly.
“…Do I get, like, a cool bandage or something?”
“No,” Daniela said immediately.
“Lame.”
“You got a concussion, not a movie scene.”
“Still think I deserve something.”
The nurse smiled faintly, jotting something down.
“Try to keep her awake,” she added. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“Yeah,” Daniela said. “I’m not letting her sleep.”
“Good.”
Once the nurse stepped out, the room got quieter.
Too quiet.
Daniela turned back to Megan immediately.
“Hey. Eyes open.”
“They are open,” Megan said, though her voice was softer now.
“Okay. Keep them that way.”
Megan watched her for a second.
“…You look stressed.”
Daniela exhaled through her nose.
“I wonder why.”
“I said I’m okay.”
“I know. I just…” Daniela trailed off, then shook her head. “You scared me.”
Megan’s expression softened, even through the haze.
“…Sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“Technically it kind of is,” Megan said. “I walked into it.”
Daniela let out a small, helpless laugh.
“Yeah, well. Still not blaming you.”
Megan shifted slightly, wincing.
“Ow.”
“Head?” Daniela asked immediately, leaning closer.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, don’t move too much.”
“I literally didn’t do anything.”
“You exist. That’s enough right now.”
Megan huffed.
“…You’re bossy.”
“And you love me.”
“…Unfortunately.”
Daniela smiled faintly, brushing her fingers through Megan’s hair, careful and gentle.
“Hey. Stay with me.”
“I am.”
“Talk to me.”
Megan thought for a moment.
“…Do you remember when we tried to cook that one time?”
Daniela blinked.
“…Oh my god.”
“And we almost set the kitchen on fire.”
“We did not almost set it on fire.”
“The pan was literally smoking.”
“That’s because you put it on the highest heat.”
“Because you said ‘go big or go home.’”
“I meant with seasoning, not flames!”
Megan let out a weak laugh, then immediately winced again.
“Okay, laughing hurts. Not doing that.”
“Yeah, maybe don’t,” Daniela said, though she couldn’t help smiling a little. “Stick to talking.”
“Talking is fine.”
“Good.”
Megan’s eyes drifted for a second.
Daniela noticed instantly.
“Hey—nope.”
“I’m awake.”
“Barely.”
“Still counts.”
“Not good enough.”
Megan sighed.
“You’re so strict.”
“And you’re so concussed.”
“True.”
The door opened again, and this time a doctor stepped in.
“Hi there,” he said, offering a small smile. “I hear we’ve got a head injury.”
“Yeah,” Daniela said quickly. “She got hit during rehearsal.”
The doctor nodded, stepping closer.
“Alright, let’s take a look.”
More questions. More checks.
“Do you feel nauseous?”
“A little,” Megan admitted.
“Any ringing in your ears?”
“…Yeah.”
“Headache?”
“Yeah.”
The doctor nodded thoughtfully.
“Alright. This is consistent with a moderate concussion.”
Daniela’s grip tightened slightly on Megan’s hand.
“Moderate?” she repeated.
“It means it’s not the mildest, but it’s not severe either,” the doctor explained calmly. “She’ll need rest—both physical and cognitive. No dancing, no intense activity, limited screen time.”
Megan made a face.
“…No screens?”
Daniela gave her a look.
“You heard him.”
“That’s actually evil.”
“It’s medical.”
“Still evil.”
The doctor smiled slightly.
“She’ll also need to be monitored closely for the next 24 hours. No sleeping for long stretches right away—someone should check on her regularly.”
“I’ll do it,” Daniela said immediately.
The doctor nodded.
“Good. If symptoms get worse—vomiting, severe confusion, trouble staying awake—you come back immediately.”
“Okay,” Daniela said.
“Otherwise, rest, hydration, and time.”
Megan blinked.
“…So I’m not dying.”
“No,” the doctor said. “You’re not dying.”
“Slay.”
Daniela let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Once the doctor stepped out, the tension in the room shifted again—still there, but lighter now. Less panic, more… relief.
Daniela turned back to Megan.
“Hey.”
Megan looked at her.
“Hey.”
Daniela reached up, gently cupping her face again.
“You’re okay.”
“I told you.”
“Yeah, well. I needed a professional to confirm.”
Megan smiled faintly.
“…You were worried.”
“Yeah. A lot.”
Megan squeezed her hand weakly.
“I’m okay.”
Daniela leaned forward slightly, resting her forehead against Megan’s for a brief second.
“Yeah. You are.”
There was a soft knock before the others peeked in—Lara first, then Manon, Yoonchae, and Sophia lingering just behind them.
“Well?” Lara asked.
Daniela turned slightly.
“She’s okay. Concussion, but not severe.”
A collective exhale.
“Oh thank god,” Yoonchae said.
Manon nodded.
“Good.”
Sophia stepped forward slowly, still hesitant.
“…Megan?”
Megan turned her head slightly.
“…Hey, Hulk.”
Sophia blinked.
“…Hulk?”
“You hit hard.”
“Oh my god—” Sophia covered her face. “I’m never living this down.”
Megan smiled faintly.
“It’s okay.”
Sophia lowered her hands, still looking guilty.
“I’m really sorry.”
“I know,” Megan said softly. “It’s not your fault.”
Sophia hesitated, then nodded.
“…Okay.”
Daniela glanced between them, then back at Megan.
“Alright. We’re taking you home.”
“Home sounds nice,” Megan murmured.
“Yeah. And guess what?”
“What?”
“You’re not sleeping yet.”
Megan groaned.
“You’re actually the worst.”
“And you’re actually staying awake.”
“…I hate it here.”
Daniela smiled, squeezing her hand again.
“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, concussion girl. Let’s get you out of here.”
And this time, when Megan leaned into her, Daniela let her—just a little—because now she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
The first 24 hours were… rough.
Not dramatic movie rough. Not life-or-death panic anymore. Just… annoying, exhausting, brain-fog, “why is everything slightly terrible” rough.
And Megan was handling it exactly how everyone expected.
Badly.
—
“Dani.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”
“Yes I do.”
Megan flopped (very slowly and carefully, because every sudden movement made her head throb) onto Daniela’s bed, staring up at the ceiling like she’d just been personally betrayed.
“I just wanna go on my phone for like… five minutes.”
Daniela didn’t even look up from where she was sitting next to her, holding a glass of water.
“No screens.”
“That’s literally inhumane.”
“That’s literally what the doctor said.”
“Doctors don’t understand me.”
Daniela snorted.
“Yeah, I’m sure this is a very unique struggle.”
“It is,” Megan insisted. “I have important things to do.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“…Roblox.”
Daniela slowly turned her head.
“…You’re joking.”
“I’m not joking,” Megan said, dead serious. “I have a streak.”
“A streak.”
“Yes.”
“In Roblox.”
“Yes. Adopt me.”
Daniela blinked.
“You’re concussed.”
“I can still game.”
“No, you literally cannot.”
Megan groaned, dragging a pillow over her face.
“This is so unfair.”
Daniela reached over and gently pulled the pillow back off.
“Hey—don’t suffocate yourself. That’s not part of recovery.”
“I’m not suffocating, I’m suffering.”
“Same difference right now.”
Megan squinted at her.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. You love being in control.”
Daniela raised an eyebrow.
“You got a concussion.”
“And now you’re, like, my boss.”
“I was already your boss.”
“False.”
“True.”
Megan sighed dramatically.
“…I hate it here.”
Daniela softened slightly, brushing a hand through her hair.
“I know. But it’s temporary.”
“How long is temporary?”
“A few days. Maybe a couple weeks before you’re fully back.”
Megan stared at her like she’d just said something offensive.
“…Weeks?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, like, actually no.”
Daniela laughed quietly.
“You don’t get to negotiate with brain injuries, babe.”
“I think I should.”
“Well, you can try. Let me know how that goes.”
Megan turned her head away, pouting.
“I was supposed to practice.”
“I know.”
“I was supposed to dance.”
“I know.”
“I was literally getting that one part right finally.”
“I know.”
Megan’s voice got softer.
“…Now I can’t do anything.”
Daniela’s expression shifted immediately.
She set the water down and moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Hey,” she said gently. “It’s not ‘can’t do anything.’ It’s ‘can’t do anything right now.’”
Megan didn’t respond.
Daniela reached out, lightly tapping her arm.
“Look at me.”
Megan sighed, but turned her head back.
“What?”
“You’re gonna dance again,” Daniela said. “You’re not losing anything. You’re just… pausing.”
“I don’t like pausing.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re bad at it.”
Megan huffed.
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
There was a small pause.
“…What if I forget everything?” Megan asked quietly.
Daniela blinked.
“You’re not gonna forget everything.”
“What if I do?”
“You won’t.”
“But what if—”
“Megan.”
Her tone was gentle, but firm enough to cut through the spiral.
“You’re not going to forget how to dance because you took a break for a couple weeks.”
Megan hesitated.
“…Promise?”
Daniela smiled softly.
“Promise.”
Megan studied her face for a second, like she was deciding whether to believe her.
“…Okay.”
“Okay.”
A beat passed.
“…Can I at least watch something?”
Daniela immediately shook her head.
“No screens.”
“Dani.”
“No.”
“Just one episode.”
“Nope.”
“I’ll close one eye.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“It could be.”
“It’s not.”
Megan groaned again, flopping back.
“I’m actually going to lose my mind.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Barely.”
Daniela picked up the water again and handed it to her.
“Drink.”
“I don’t want water.”
“Drink.”
Megan took it with the most dramatic sigh imaginable.
“You’re so bossy.”
“And you’re so dehydrated.”
“Rude.”
“Drink.”
Megan took a sip.
“…This is the worst day of my life.”
Daniela smiled slightly.
“You say that a lot.”
“Because it keeps being true.”
“Mmhm.”
—
By day two, Megan had upgraded from dramatic to unbearable.
Not because she was actually worse—but because she was starting to feel a little better.
Which meant she thought she was fine.
Which meant Daniela had to work ten times harder.
—
“I’m literally okay now.”
“No, you’re literally not.”
“I feel fine.”
“You said the room was spinning five minutes ago.”
“It stopped.”
“For now.”
“So I’m cured.”
“That’s not how concussions work.”
Megan crossed her arms, sitting upright on the bed like she was presenting a case in court.
“I think my body is just built different.”
Daniela stared at her.
“…You got knocked out by Sophia.”
“I did not get knocked out.”
“You almost did.”
“Details.”
Daniela shook her head.
“No dancing.”
“I can do, like, a little dancing.”
“No.”
“Just marking it.”
“No.”
“Just arms.”
“No.”
“Just thinking about dancing?”
“…I’ll allow that.”
“Okay, slay.”
Daniela narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t push it.”
Megan grinned slightly.
“…You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“See? You admit it.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Megan shifted slightly, then winced.
“…Okay, my head still hurts.”
“Yeah. Because you’re concussed.”
“Right. That.”
Daniela softened again, reaching over to gently press her hand against Megan’s forehead.
“Lie down.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“Lie down.”
“You can’t make me.”
Daniela raised an eyebrow.
“Do you want me to list all the ways I can?”
Megan paused.
“…Okay, I’m lying down.”
“Good choice.”
She slowly eased back onto the pillows, sighing.
“This is so boring.”
“I know.”
“I hate resting.”
“I know.”
“I hate not doing anything.”
“I know.”
Megan turned her head slightly to look at her.
“…Stay with me?”
Daniela didn’t hesitate.
“Always.”
Megan relaxed a little at that, her expression softening.
“…Okay.”
There was a quiet moment.
Then—
“…What if I just check Roblox really quick?”
“Megan.”
“I’m just asking.”
“No.”
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“I did. For zero seconds.”
Megan huffed.
“You’re so strict.”
“And you’re so persistent.”
“It’s a gift.”
“It’s a problem.”
Megan smiled faintly.
“…You still love me though.”
Daniela leaned over slightly, brushing her hair back again.
“Yeah. Even when you’re being annoying.”
“Especially when I’m being annoying.”
“Let’s not push it.”
Megan let out a small laugh—careful this time.
“…Okay.”
Her eyes started to drift again—not fully closing, just… softer.
Daniela noticed immediately.
“Hey.”
“I’m awake.”
“Yeah, but stay with me.”
Megan blinked.
“…I’m here.”
“Good.”
Daniela reached down, lacing their fingers together.
“Just rest. That’s your only job right now.”
Megan squeezed her hand lightly.
“…Worst job ever.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“But at least I have you.”
Daniela smiled.
“Yeah. You do.”
And this time, when Megan’s eyes got heavy, Daniela didn’t panic—just kept talking softly, keeping her grounded, right there, exactly where she needed to be.