When one falls down a 30 story building, they expect to awaken on a hard surface, the ground they fell to most likely, or perhaps, if the person is lucky, an operation table to glue back together what was left of them after crashing into the pavement below.

Maybe his brain had been splattered across the parking lot and his body fooled him into thinking he was laying on a soft, warm surface. Death didn't feel like cold, it felt warm, hot even, almost feverish but without the shivering. Oh, never mind, there was the shivering. He could feel his teeth clattering, but it sounded fuzzy in his brain and hurt his ears. There was pain, so much pain, like his entire body was on fire. Like he had been thrown into the deepest pits of Hell. Ah well, it was where he belonged wasn't it? He moaned, he was sure he was producing some sort of sound, he could feel the vibration in the back of his throat, but he couldn't hear that either. All he could hear was a voice. A voice?

There was a voice speaking to him, whispering, cooing and something cool and wet was pressed against his forehead. Cold didn't feel nice, it was like he could feel his own heart and he tried to move away from whatever was being done to him. "Let me help you, please" the voice was pleading with him. A female voice he realized after concentrating on the sound more thoroughly.

"it hurts" he managed to whisper. His smooth voice replaced by a pitiful hoarse sound, his throat burning. "I know it does, it's okay, I'll give you something for the pain in a minute" he tried to open his eyes to identify this good Samaritan, quite possibly one of those good cops they had around here. The good cop, bad cop story, he had seen it countless of times before. His vision was clouded, fuzzy and stung his eyes, he blinked, trying to focus, but he simply hurt his brain even more and he gave up. "I cannot see you, who are you?" he whispered, laying his head back down on the soft pillow, that felt better.

"Your vision will return. You hit your head very hard, it makes sense your brain cannot make you see right now" she explained to him, not answering his question, at least his brain still functioned enough to register a lack of willingness to tell him her name. "answer me" he mumbled softly. "My name is Anne Barkley, I'm a nurse at Huntington Memorial Hospital and volunteered to take care of you, Hans" a nurse, that made sense, so he was in a hospital then. He hated hospitals ever since he was a little boy. He had spent Christmas at a hospital due to a lung infection when he was five years old, he had never been to a more sad and lonely place in his life.

"no hospitals" he croaked and frowned when he heard her chuckle, he wasn't trying to be funny, was he? "You're not at a hospital, you're at my house. You spent three days in a hospital, but they did all they could for you, the rest of your healing should take place in a warm and comfortable environment. They wanted to send you to jail, I stood up for you. So it's alright, you're safe, focus on getting better for now" she said.

"what's wrong with me?" he asked, scared of the answer, what was left of him after such a fall, such a height. He jumped slightly when he felt her hand smoothing back the hair from his sweaty forehead, a gentle and caring gesture he did not expect nor was he used to it.

"surprisingly nothing very serious or even permanent. We found you laying in a huge pile of garbage bags, filled with paper, they broke your fall. You have three fractured ribs, a shot wound in your shoulder and you broke your ankle. You probably have a concussion and some of your muscles are probably torn. You'll be alright, Hans. Rest now" her hand combing his hair felt foreign and lovely at the same time, he would have never allowed it if he had been healthy, he didn't allow people to get so close to him. He would live, and he wouldn't be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life either, he would be okay, in jail probably, but okay. He sighed, feeling exhaustion take over, relaxed by her gentle gestures he eventually fell asleep.

The next time he woke up the room was dark and he was alone. Slowly, he moved his head to the right to take in his surroundings. His vision had returned. There were large, glass balcony doors through which he could see the skyline of the city. Another 30 story building he'd probably end up being thrown off from if John McClane would find out he was still alive. For now he was thankful for the view and managed to ignore the thought of being at such height again. It was storming outside, the storm out on sea had hit the shore and the wind was howling while thunder rolled through the night sky. Lightning lit up the room for a few seconds every other minute and he lay there, enjoying the cool breeze coming from a slightly opened window above the balcony doors, miss Barkley had left that open to help him fight his fever no doubt. he raised his arms above his head so the wind could cool his side, causing the hairs on his chest to stand upright in the sudden cold. It was probably not good for him to lay in the cold wind like this, cooling down his body while it was recovering, but the simple pleasure was too tempting as of now.

He tried to stretch but regretted it immediately when a sharp pain shot through his back, causing him to yelp louder than he had wished to do. A light was turned on in the hallway, Christ he woke her up, stupid idiot, get yourself together. She walked in still tying the knot on the front of her bathrobe and turned on the light on his endtable. "what's wrong? What's wrong, Hans. Easy, breathe.. it's alright. Where does it hurt?" he hadn't realized there were tears rolling down his cheeks from the unbearable pain in his lower back, it felt like his spine had been shattered. "My back.." he managed to whisper "are you sure it's not broken? It feels like that" she shook her head and gave him a sad smile. "photos were taken of your entire body. Your back is badly bruised, but it's not broken" he tried to collect his bearing, concentrating on his breathing while she prepared a syringe with swift, skilled hands.

"what is that?" he asked, looking warily at the clear liquid she filled the syringe with. "are you that fond of your rest, miss Barkley, that you are willing to drop me like a horse over it? My apologies for waking you, it shall not happen again" he grumbled, eyeing her with a warning glare. She gave him a soft smile and removed the air bubbles from the fluid by tapping against the syringe a few times. "it's against the pain, Hans. Nothing more" she explained and cleaned a spot on his shoulder with some alcohol. He felt the sting before he could answer or question her words, a painkiller would be welcomed, if it was indeed a painkiller. She rubbed the spot to stop the bleeding and rearranged the covers on his bed, tucking him in carefully. "it'll make you a little drowsy, but that's good, you need to sleep" she whispered kindly, smoothing his hair back again, ignoring his sharp, piercing eyes.

He hated to admit it, but she was an extraordinary woman and exceptionally kind as well. For as far as he knew, she was well aware who he was and what he had done, yet she had volunteered to take care of him in her own house, giving him the warm environment the doctors prescribed for him. No one had ever made such a sacrifice for him, not even his older brother. This was most likely her own bedroom, and her own bed, her own sheets and comforters she tucked him in with. Her kindness embarrassed him a little, a thief and murderer, he didn't know what to do when she touched him like that. He could tell her to get her hands off him, like he would have done with anyone else, but he didn't want her to think he was ungrateful and the last thing he wanted was scare her. So he did what any civilized person would do.

"Thank you" he said, softening his gaze. He was aware his piercing eyes frightened people, especially women. "You're very welcome. I'll come back to check on you later, try to sleep for a little more" she told him and got up from the bed. "No, wait. Don't leave.. stay a while, alright?" he pleaded softly, hating himself for his weakness. She blinked in surprise but then sat back down, gazing down on him with a soft smile, the smile he was getting to know more and more. "Alright, I'll stay. Why, what's the matter? Are you feeling okay?" she asked. He bit his bottom lip and nodded slightly. "I'm feeling fine, I just.. realized we're in an apartment building" he confessed, feeling embarrassed. She hadn't even thought about that when she volunteered to take him home with her. "We are, Hans. But nothing is going to happen to you this time. I'm glad you want me to stay, I hate thunderstorms, don't you? They frighten me" she said, changing the subject to give him some distraction.

"why?" he asked, his voice was getting its usual dark smoothness back. "Oh, I don't know. The sound and lightning simply scares me. Aren't you afraid of it?" she asked. A loud crash of thunder made the windows shake and he had to wait a few seconds before he could answer. "nothing will happen, miss Barkley. These buildings are designed to withstand a struck of lightning" he explained to her, he was of little comfort, he knew. She smiled softly. "would you like some tea?" she offered. After a few moments of hesitation he nodded, tea, why not. He couldn't remember the last time he had anything to drink. He believed he had been sitting in Holly McClane's office and someone had handed him a plastic cup of coffee, he had never been much of a tea drinker. But he would drink tea with miss Anne Barkley if it would calm her nerves and take her mind off this blasted weather, as she had taken his mind off his fall.

He had dozed off momentarily when she returned, placing a steaming mug of tea on his nightstand. Very carefully he raised himself into somewhat of a sitting position, the pain a little more bearable now she had given him a strong painkiller, something he was very grateful for. He thanked her politely before taking a careful sip, only now realizing how thirsty he was, his mouth feeling like a sack of cotton balls. "why did you volunteer to take me here?" he asked, glaring at her over the rim of his steaming mug. She shrugged, stirring a spoon in her own cup. "You looked so lost and scared when you woke up in the hospital for a short moment. You woke up during the surgery on your ankle, they thought you'd be out cold for weeks. You would never heal in prison, I knew that much. Your doctor agreed with me, but he didn't think I'd be willing to take you in. You've been sleeping so peacefully in my bed for three days, I swear no one would expect you to be the cause of that heist" she said.

"I don't think that answers my question, miss Barkley" he sneered, still staring at her. She nodded in agreement. "No it doesn't. I don't know why, Hans. Something told me to take good care of you, help you through this. I do my best"

There was a silence between them for a while, allowing the storm to announce its presence once more. "I am very grateful" he told her, his gaze more sincere than guarded. "not many people would willingly give their bed to a wanted criminal, nor care for him as if he were their spouse" she blushed at his words, she didn't think she was overdoing it that much. "Are you married, Hans?" she asked. He shook his head, chuckling softly. "I frighten people, miss Barkley, especially women" he widened his eyes for a second, trying to scare her in jest, causing her to giggle. "I don't seem to detect any male lifeforms in the house either, miss Barkley. Are you married?" he asked. She shook her head and looked down at her cup with a soft smile. "I was, for a few years. He left me when I it turned out I couldn't have children" his smile disappeared, her sad story touched him. Such a sweet, caring person, too good for this world. "what a charming man he must have been" he sneered sarcastically.

"he was in the beginning" she said, looking away as if lost in thought. He remembered what a charming man his father had been In the beginning, but more so he remembered seeing his mother cowering in a corner while he threatened to kill her with a broken bottle. His brother Simon hiding under the bed with him, covering their ears to block out their mother's screaming. There was something extremely unpleasant about a man being cruel to a woman in any way, he himself could not do it. "I'm sorry, miss Barkley. I did not mean to upset you" he said, not really knowing what else to say. He wanted her to smile again. Not many people smiled at him and meant it.