I'm soaked to the bone by the time I make it back. My feet ache to my bones and my shoes are filled with water. I push the door open and stumble in. Someone catches me, but as the world swirls to black I remember the last time I ran in the rain.

The rooftops are slick from the water. It runs down my face and my neck. It's harder to grip, easier to slip, but I run perilously along a beam. The ground is far below, roads flooded and only the desperate or the uncaring out in this weather.

I'm not running anywhere in particular. More or less I'm running away from things. Away from my feelings, away from Celeste. I have regrets. Letting her get to me, letting her get under my skin.

Some one calls my name. I glance back and there she is. I move faster, more recklessly, leaping from the beam to a crane and then sliding down the slippery metal to the rooftop. It turns into a race, with me a few steps ahead of Cel at all times as she hounds my heels.

She runs me into a dead end, and I turn to face her. Maybe I mean to fight, maybe I need to yell but when she grabs my shoulders I deflate. "Cel, leave me alone. I already told you, it's over."

I can't tell if she hates me or not. Her eyes are too dark to tell and with the rain I don't even know if she's crying as hard as I am.

"So I'm not good enough?"

"That's not it." I don't know what it is. I don't know how to tell her that her intensity scares me. Intensity is what killed my mom. Cel needs to run so much that it consumes her. She's more obsessed than I am and I don't think I can watch it consume her. Eventually it's going to get her killed and I don't want to be there to see it.

When I don't elaborate, she makes this disgusted sound, pushing me against the wall. She backs away starting to pace, her hands in her hair. I stare at her helpless, my feet itching to get moving again and run out my emotions.

"You told me you loved me." Her voice is tainted with the venom of a broken heart. I watch her walk away.

Voices bring me back to the present. I wonder for a moment if that was when we lost Cel to the blues. It hurts less to think about than it used to. I try to sit up, but someone pushes me back down. I open my eyes and glare at Wraith. "I'm fine."

"You've been shot."

"I have not."

The dark-skinned woman makes a point of pressing her palm against my side. My vision explodes into stars as a sharp, burning pain spreads through me. "God! I didn't even feel that…!"

"You were running so hard I don't think you felt anything but the wind." She eases up, sitting next to me. "Bishop's in surgery. He started working on Celeste once you got patched up."

I sit up again, but much more slowly. She lets me. "How long?"

"Just an hour. It'll be awhile."

I feel something like cold fear. I want to be in there with her, but I don't think I could watch it, either. "Kate?"

"Assisting him. Just the two of us right now."

My fingers knead at the blanket they'd put over me. I start talking. Not really to Wraith so much as at her. "This is my fault. She lost her leg to save me. And if this doesn't work, I don't know what she'll do. No, I know what she'll do and I don't think I can stop her. Running was her life, it was everything to her. We don't even know if she'll be able to run the same."

"She's going to need to relearn everything. Just like anyone else who gets injured and needs a prosthetic." Wraith puts her hand over mine, stopping my fidgeting. "She's gotta learn to walk. She's gonna fall. She's gonna rage and scream. She's going to need you to push her, or hold her hand, or listen to her cry. It's not going to be easy. Are you really ready for that?"

I already know the answer, but I ask. "Why me?"

"Did you do all this because you were guilty, or because you actually care about her?"

"She nearly got Kate killed, she killed a good man, she…really fucked up, Wraith."

Wraith just shrugs her shoulders. "And your sister is in there with her life in her hands. Is that irony, or is that forgiveness? Celeste is a stubborn bitch but that doesn't mean she's inherently evil."

Any arguments I might have conjured fall flat, and I deflate. "What if she can't run the same again?"

"Then she's gonna need a lot of help. Especially from you."

Either way, I realize, she's going to need me. She'll probably get sick of me, maybe even hate me by the time it's done. Late in the night, after I'm finally allowed to sit by her and watch her sleep, I think that I'd let her hate me. I've already made that choice. I made that choice when I dragged her across the city, half-dead and despondent, to the only person I thought could help.

Bishop amputated Cel's leg above the knee, and the area where he'd joined the prosthetic was bandaged and wrapped. But I can get a proper look at it now. The color doesn't quite match her skin. It's a little too dark, and in the soft lighting from outside it's too matte in places, and too shiny in others.

My attention turns back to Cel's face. Her eyes are open, and she's been watching me. I put my hand on her arm, then pull it back. "Did I wake you?"

She closes her eyes again. "I'm glad you didn't die."

Thank you Faith, you did something wonderful and dangerous, Faith, you give me something to live for, Faith.

Cel must have noticed my scowl, because she puts a hand over mine. "...Thanks. Don't ever do something this stupid again."