A/N: This is an oldie. Enjoy.

…

"Don't hit her head!" Mitch exclaimed, his arms around my shoulders. The world was spinning as the boys carried me to their car.

"Okay Mitch!" Jerome yelled at him, as he had said that four times already. They eased me into the backseat, the door slammed and I felt Mitch put a hand on my forehead before I blacked out.

I woke to a steady beep and a hand on my leg. I groggily opened my eyes; I was in a hospital room. Looking to the owner of the hand, I smiled slightly.

"Hey," Mitch said softly, "How are you feeling?"

"My vision is blurry, my head, leg, wrist, and other arm all hurt," I said sarcastically, "Other than that, I'm fine. What the hell happened?"

"Jerome played a prank on you while you were recording, you fell out of your desk chair, hit your head on your desk, and stupidly decided to go downstairs to get an ice pack. But since you hit your head, you were a bit 'drowsy' for lack of a better word, and fell down the stairs. Then you blacked out in the car," Mitch said.

"Dammit Jerome," I grunted. Mitch nodded.

"I've yelled at him a few times already," he shrugged, reaching up and squeezing my hand.

"When can I leave?" I asked immediately. I don't like hospitals, though I doubt anyone did.

"Not for a while, Ms. Shellbrook," the doctor answered my question as he burst through the door, "You've fractured your left arm, sprained your right wrist – speaking of, Mr. Hughes, please remove your hand from hers."

Mitch glanced sheepishly at me as he drew his arm back. I frowned internally.

"Also, you've done something to your knee, and you have a large cut on your head. We are still looking to see if there is any brain damage. Do you have any memory loss?" he asked.

I shook my head, "Only of what happened right before I blacked out."

"Good," the doctor said, "That's normal. I'll be back to administer medication later, in the meantime Mr. Hughes, you'll have to leave."

"But it's 4 PM," I said.

"No, Ms. Pietroniro, It's 2 AM. You were out for a while," he said.

"Mitch, you waited here for...10 hours?" I asked, doing the math in my head.

"Yep," he blushed, "Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Doctor, can he stay, please? It's almost morning," I said.

He pondered my plead for a moment before sighing and just leaving the room. I took that as a yes, as did Mitch since he didn't leave. Rather, he slowly climbed into the bed next to me.

"It's a small bed," Mitch noted, gesturing at the uncomfortable hospital bed I was supposed to stay in.

"Uh-huh," I laughed a bit.

Mitch wrapped his arm around my shoulders gently, as if he was afraid of hurting me. I found it cute. I snuggled into his warm embrace as sleep claimed me again.

"Maybe I can catch up on sleep now..." I murmured as I drifted off, "So many videos..."

Shit! I jolted back up before I was fully asleep, startling Mitch.

"What?" he asked, grabbing my hand again despite the doctor's wishes.

"Minecon," I exclaimed, "Mitch, our plane leaves in two hours!"

"I know," he smiled softly, "You can't go, so I'm staying with you."

"No, we both have to go," I shook my head, "My fans are counting on me. As are yours, on you!"

Mitch's eyes seemed to flash with regret briefly before he continued, "You're injured."

"I'm fine!" I tore off the covers, and slid out of bed. My leg protested as I hit the ground but I ignored the throbbing pain.

"Jess! I swear to god I'll call the nurse in," he threatened.

"No you won't," I chuckled, "I know you want to go to Minecon as much as I do."

"You are one stubborn shit," he grunted, standing up and grabbing a bag from the side table, "Here are your clothes. Change, I'll get crutches."

"No, I'll change and get crutches, you go get our bags from home," I ordered. Mitch nodded and sprinted out the door.

I stepped into the bathroom, and tore off my hospital gown.

I still had my underwear and bra on, so I just grabbed my old clothes. Black skinny jeans, a dark gray v-neck and a burgundy hoodie. I pulled all those on as well as my socks and brown combat boots. I smoothed my hair out and combed it with my fingers, searching the bag for my last item. Pulling out the small yin-and-yang ring, I slipped it onto my left little finger and emerged from the bathroom. My large black strap-on cast was leaning against the wall.

"Do I need those?" I asked myself, already walking towards the door.

"Nope!" I said to no-one as I limped out the door, down the hall, to the elevator, and out the front doors without question from the doctors or nurses. Security wasn't tight here, good to know!

I emerged just as Mitch's gray car pulled up. Perfect timing; he had been fast. Our luggage was in the back seat, and he unlocked the doors as I came up.

"Really, no crutches?" Mitch huffed.

"Thanks for being so sweet and caring, but I could care less about crutches," I slipped into the seat, buckled my belt and threw my empty plastic bag onto the floor in front of me.

"Now drive!" I pointed to the dark road ahead and Mitch drove off.

As we trundled down the road towards the airport, Mitch's arm dropped from the wheel and inched over to my left hand, which was rested on the block between the two seats to minimize the pain from my break. Maybe I'll buy an arm brace at the airport.

He grabbed my hand gently and we sat in silence for the rest of the drive.

…

A/N: Jess's fans referring to the Messica shippers- such as me. If I ever went to Minecon, it'd be for two reasons. 1) meet Jess. 2) meet Mitch. I'd rather meet Mitch & Jess together somewhere random than meet only Mitch in a designated setting.