"And then he saw the tears begin to slide down her bruised face. "How badly are you hurt?" He should have checked her chart on the way in, but he'd wanted to get out of sight as quickly as possible. "Nothing interesting," she said, sounding faintly disgruntled. "Just a sprained ankle and some bruises. It's my heart." "Your heart?" he echoed, panicked. "Do you have internal injuries...?" "It's broken," she said, soft, plaintive, the tears still sliding down her face. He muttered a curse. It was just the drugs talking, but he could feel his own heart twist inside. She lay in the middle of the wide hospital bed, but she was looking very small, and he simply climbed up beside her, pulling her into his arms with exquisite care, not wanting to hurt her any more. She let out a small sound, and for a moment he thought it was a cry of pain, but then she moved closer, putting her face against his shoulder, and he could feel her crying. "I missed you," she said, her voice muffled. "I know." He held her gently--she suddenly felt fragile, and he'd almost been too late."