My head aches. Even with my eyes closed the light is too piercing – too bright. I try to roll. To hide my eyes from the harsh light. I feel a familiar pinch in my arm – an IV. I'm in the hospital. Again. I cover my face with my other hand, trying to remember what happened.

"He's awake," I hear.

"Jaeger," someone calls my name.

I let one eye flicker open and groan as the light makes my head pulse more.

A warm hand touches my arm gently.

I open my eyes, squinting. Terry and Roxanne stand above me.

"Was?" I start to ask, my throat raw and dry.

"Hey, how you feeling?" Terry's southern drawl soothes my worry like water on a hot day.

I only manage a groan. I try to sit up. My head spins. I notice my arm is in a cast.

"Brocken's on his way still." Roxanne reassures me as they help me sit up in the bed.

"What happened?" I ask, reaching for the glass of water on my bedside table.

"You don't remember?" Roxanne responds, fear wavering in her voice.

"We were kinda hoping you'd tell us…" Terry drawled.

Now that my eyes have adjusted, I look at them properly for the first time. Lines of worry crease their faces. I shake my head, making it hurt even more. I moved my hand up to my aching head. There's a bump there that hurts when my hand brushes it.

I groan.

"Where's Mars?" I mumble.

Roxanne and Terry both flinch at the name. Panic surges inside me.

"Where is he?" I ask again.

"He's here too."

"Is he okay?"

Terry scrunches up his face. "Better than you."

I relax. He's okay. Why are they looking at me like that though? What happened – then a memory flashed through my mind. Mars. Angry. Screaming. In my face. I glance down at my arm and remember him throwing me on the floor. My forearm slammed against the solid oak chest. I winced at the memory. He walked towards me. He had a knife in his hand. When did he get that? Did he have that in the bedroom? I shuffled away from him, cradling my broken arm. My ribs ached with every movement from where he kicked me earlier.

"Remember now?" Terry sits down in the chair next to my bed.

"Bits…" Earlier in the night, we were making out on the couch. He pulled my hair a little too hard and I voiced my pain. He pushed me off the couch and into the coffee table. He laughed as I hit the floor. "And pieces." I groan.

"How did I get here?" I ask, the pieces refusing to connect in my mind.

"Ambulance. Neighbors called the cops cuz they heard screaming and thudding and barking."

"Gigi?!" I gasp, lunging forward so fast I feel something in my abdomen tear.

"Hey, careful," Terry gently helps me back down. "Gigi's fine. Trixie's taken him to our place."

I let out a sigh of relief. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to Gigi.

"Apparently he was defending you," Roxanne smiles sadly.

Terry let out a crass snort. "Yeah – apparently the worst of Mars' injuries are dog bites." He pauses, frowning. "At first they thought you'd beaten the shit out of him and ran. Then they found you passed out in the closet, phone in your hand."

"Gigi …" I mumble. "Bit him?"

Terry nods.

"Once they saw they state you were in though…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "Jaeger, I know… I know it's your life and-and you can do what you want with it, but I… I'm worried about. If… if they hadn't called the cops… you … you…" he shakes his head, voice tightening. "We don't want to lose you," he looks me straight in the eyes.

I avoid his gaze. Anxiety rises within me as I bolster myself against the upcoming discussion.

"They said you might not have made it through the night," Roxanne whispers, her arms wrapped around herself.

That gets my attention. I stare at her with my mouth open. I furrow my brow and glance at Terry. He stares down at the floor. "What?"

"You almost died last night, bud." Terry says. "That bastar-" I wince at the word and he stops himself, screwing up his face in the effort to hold the insults in. "he – he almost killed you."

I shake my head. Surely, they're wrong. Surely this is an exaggeration.

The door bursts open and Brocken flies into the room. His face drops when he saw me. Roxanne and Terry quickly move out of his way. He wraps his arms around me – the familiar musk of his cologne instantly calming me. He kisses the top of my head. I do my best to hide my pain at the touch, not wanting to cause him any more worry.

"What happened?" he asks, his accent strong in his duress.

I make eye contact with Terry whose mouth is open. I give him a smallest head shake. He shuts his mouth and looks away.

"Was just accident," I lie.

As Brocken pulls away to look at my face, I know he can tell that I'm lying. His face hardens.

"And where is Mars?" he asks pointedly, looking around the room.

"He's being treated a couple of hallways down," Terry responds.

Brocken nods again sharply.

"I'm going to go speak with your doctor," he turns and walks out of the room.

I open my mouth to stop him but can't find the words. I chew on my lip nervously before I realize that it is split and swollen.

I glance up at Terry. I see the disappointment in his eyes. I can't stand seeing it. I quickly look away.

"If you have to lie about it… it means something's wrong," he mumbles.

I stare down at my fingernails.

"Did I really…?" I begin, but I can't bring myself to finish the sentence. "Did he – was it really that bad?"

"We weren't sure you gonna wake up this time, bud."

I meet his gaze. I see the fear in his eyes. I look down at my blanket. I run my good hand along the coarse fibers.

When Brocken comes back into the room, he has a police officer with him. The officer goes over my options with me. He strongly encourages me to press charges. He insists we have more than enough evidence to put my attacker behind bars. The thought makes me shudder. When I close my eyes, though, I see Mars standing over me with the knife. Mars laughing as I hit my head on the coffee table. I glare at the shiny white floor. I think about Mars when we wake up early in the morning. When there's plenty of time before we have to get out of bed. We lay there, holding each other. His broad chest rising and falling gently. His stubble scratches my face when I kiss his cheek.

"I don't want to press charges," I mumble.

They either don't hear me, or they ignore me.

"I am not going to press charges." I say louder, more firmly.

Everyone turns to look at me. The arresting officer sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. I can tell he saw too many of these cases and just wants his shift to be over.

"Look," he says. "I can't force you to press charges, but…" he sighs. "At least think about it, okay?" Worry shines in his eyes. "What would have happened to you if we weren't called?"

I look at the floor again, avoiding eye contact with all of them.

"What I can do – am going to do – is require both of you to complete an alcohol rehabilitation class."

I recoil and my head whips up to look at him with disbelief.

"I'm not an alcoholic," I blanch.

He looks exasperated. "You had a blood alcohol content of 1.5%. That's…. usually 0.4% is fatal… I – I don't even know how you survived."

I frown at this. Had I really drunk that much?

"I'll go." I nod.

He lets out a sigh of relief. "Alright, good. First step is admitting you have a problem." He opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind. He turns to leave. "You have my contact info – please don't hesitate to use it."

A heavy silence falls across the room. I focus on studying the pattern of the stitches in my blanket.

"Can I see him?" I speak so quietly I almost don't even hear my own voice. When there's no response, I lift my head to ask again. Brocken stands with his head in his hand. Terry looks pointedly away from me, taking deep breaths as he clenched and unclenched his fist. Roxanne stands awkwardly between them, not meeting my gaze. They heard me. My eyes wander back to the pattern in my blanket.

"Can-" I begin again. Brocken lets out a harsh sigh that makes me flinch.

"We heard you," he growls. There's a long pause. "Don't you understand that he's the reason you're here?" His voice cracks.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, refusing to look up from my blanket.

I hear someone leave the room. When I look back up, Brocken is the only here with me. There's anger in his eyes, but his concern shines through more. He sits in the chair next to me.

"Why won't you press charges?" he asks gently.

I shake my head.

"An order of no contact?"

I stare at my hand gripping the blanket.

"I need to see him," I finally respond. He sighs. "This… we…" I stammer, trying to find the right words. "Something needs to change."

I feel him relax with relief to hear those words. He leans back into the chair and reaches over to hold my hand.

A nurse walks into the room.

"Are you sure you want to see him?" she asks me. I nod. She grimaces. "We're legally required to have someone present with you." I nod.

I look at Brocken and glance at the door. He gets the message, but he's not happy about it. He grumbles as he stands and leaves the room.

When Mars walks through the door, every muscle in his face drops. He pales. He stares at me. I shift self-consciously, realizing that I don't even know how bad I look. He slowly walks into the room.

His mouth opens and closes several times, searching for something to say. The nurse shifts uncomfortably in the corner.

I can see in his face that he's horrified by what he's done. He always is. I try to find something to say, but I can't. I don't know how long we stay silent, awkwardly avoiding each other's gaze while stealing glances.

Eventually he clears his throat. "I'm sorry," he says pathetically.

I let out a humorless snort. I shake my head. He bites his lip – his normal, intact, not-swollen lip – and looks away.

The silence lies heavily on top of us again.

"I – I don't remember any of it," he finally mumbles.

I look up at him, tired. I gesture to the chair. Hesitantly, he sits.

"What – " I sigh. "What do you remember?"

He looks up at the ceiling as he thinks. "We had wine with dinner – the nice dinner you'd made… for our anniversary," he grimaces. "We joked about going out to the clubs… we did some shots…" he trails off. "We played drinking Jenga and… and Gigi knocked it over…"

I shudder, remembering Mars' screams at Gigi. Looking at him, I know he remembers it too.

"I got angry…" he grimaces. "Did I – did I hurt Gigi?"

I shake my head. "No, I got in the way."

He furrows his brow and looks away.

"But… it must have gotten better…" he mumbles, desperately trying to remember through the haze. "I remember…" he glances at the nurse in the corner. "We made out on the couch… for a while…"

I nod.

"But after that…" he scrunches his face up. "It's all a blur after that."

I nod again.

"What do you remember?" he whispers, as if he was afraid of the answer.

"Only bits and pieces," I mumble, fidgeting with my cast. I take a deep breath and look him in the eye. "We can't keep doing this."

He closes his eyes. "I know," his voice breaks. "I … I don't know what happened last night, I'm sorry."

I swallow. "You got drunk and beat the shit out of me." I said plainly, knowing that my words hurt him.

He does his best to shrink into the chair.

"The police are requiring us to complete an alcohol rehab program." I continue. He nods. "I think we both need to get sober." My voice wavers. "This only happens when you're drinking." He nods. "Can you do that?" I ask.

After a pause, he nods. I let out a sigh of relief.

I reach out to hold his hand. Gently, he places his over mine.

For a little, we sit in silence. I can't help but to smile when I notice that Brocken is pacing in front of the door every few minutes, unsubtly checking on us through the window each time.

Eventually, Mars stirs.

"Well – I should probably let you rest." He stands. Kisses me gently on the head before he walks out.

"Do you need anything else from me?" the nurse asks. I jump – I think I'd forgotten she was there. I shake my head. As she leaves, Brocken and Terry reenter my room.

Author's Note: So not really your average Mars/Jaeger fics. Hopefully you like it in spite of that – please let me know what you think! Jaeger and Mars have been one of my OTPs for years, but as I've gotten older, I just can't see the relationship between these two being healthy. Part of my inspiration came from Ms. Kinnikufan's fic Ich Liebe Sie Nicht Zuruck, so definitely check it out if you haven't already! More to come!