Shaw woke the next morning disoriented. She had something holding her down. Her legs were pinned, her left arm trapped under something else. For a brief second, she remembered a car accident. The memory was so strong, that Shaw started struggling, tugging on her limbs, trying to get out. She opened her eyes, calming down when she saw that it was just Root and Bear.

In the night, Shaw had rolled onto her back and Root had thrown an arm over her, tucking her head under Shaw's chin. Bear lay across Shaw's legs. Tentatively, Shaw brought a hand up, running her fingers over Root's hair. It was soft, and silky, and Shaw smiled.

She wasn't one for emotional displays, but she could manage something small like this and Root wasn't even awake, so no one had to know. The last couple of weeks had been good, but weird. Shaw couldn't deny her attraction to Root, but she was starting to realize that it was more than just attraction. She didn't know what that 'more' was, or how to deal with it.

Root had been in love with Hanna and had gotten hurt. There was no way she was over what had happened, and Shaw didn't want to be another source of pain. If they didn't get romantically involved, Shaw would never have to break Root's heart, whether it was because she couldn't love her back or because she left their town.

Shaw relaxed into the bed, her fingers idly playing with Root's hair. Maybe it was already too late for that. She might not be great with emotions, but she could see the way Root looked at her, hear the way Root said her name during sex. Shaw should end it before it got any worse, but she didn't want to. She liked what they had.

Before she'd started sleeping with Root, it had been a long time since she'd slept through the night. She often woke up sweating, unable to remember her dreams, but feeling like she'd just lost something. When she did remember her dreams, they were often nonsensical. Sometimes, it was the weird car crash memory, somehow so familiar even though she'd never been in a car crash. Sometimes, she could remember a fire, burning and painful. Recently, Root had been showing up in her dreams, eyes glowing a bright red, filled with anger.

The bedroom door opened and John looked in. When he saw that Shaw was awake, he walked in, stopping just inside the door. Shaw was tempted to pull away from Root and pretend that they weren't caught cuddling, but she couldn't find the energy. She was too comfortable and content.

Shaw met John's eyes, daring him to say anything, but he just smiled.

"Breakfast is ready," he whispered. He waited until Shaw nodded and walked out of the room.

Shaw shifted her legs, prompting Bear to jump off. She tried to extract herself as carefully as possible, but every time she pulled away, Root's arms tightened around her. Shaw laughed at Root's clinginess.

Root mumbled unintelligibly, squeezed one more time and wiped her eyes. "I'm cold," she rasped.

"Well, you did push all the blankets off the bed," Shaw joked.

"You're like a toaster," Root complained, finally opening her eyes. When she realized that she was on top of Shaw, she smiled, tightening her arms again. "Morning sex?"

Shaw snorted and sat up, letting Root pull away. She swung her feet onto the floor, shooing Bear away when he tried to lick her feet. She stood and stretched, groaning loudly. Behind her, Root sat up, rubbing her face.

"What time is it?"

"I don't know," Shaw shrugged, touching her toes. "John just came and said breakfast was ready.

"Damn," Root sighed. "Fine, no sex, but breakfast had better be good."

Shaw nodded and lead them out of the bedroom. They walked across the house, Root taking her hand. Shaw let her thread their fingers together. As dumb as it was, Shaw kind of liked holding Root's hand. They walked into the kitchen to see that Harold and John had made pancakes and bacon. Shaw raised her eyebrows.

"Wow," she said, impressed. "I was expecting poptarts or something dumb."

Harold turned from the stove to glance at her. "I am not without my talents, Shaw."

Shaw winced. "That sounds…dirty."

They laughed. Root pulled her hand away and slid onto a tall chair around the island, pulling a plate off the stack. "Just come eat, Sameen. I know you're hungry."

"Ugh, I'm starving," she whined, sitting next to Root.

Lionel and John were already on stools, and Harold dropped the last couple of pancakes onto the stack in the middle, before sitting. They took what they wanted and started digging in. Shaw took a large bite of pancakes, cheeks bulging, and turned to see Root's shocked expression.

"What?" Shaw asked around the large mouthful. She swallowed. "You've got to be used to this by now."

Root just rolled her eyes and focused on the boys. "How's the snow? Is it still storming?" Root asked.

Harold set his utensils down. "We ended up getting about 2 feet. The worst storm in a while. I'd say we're probably trapped in here for a while. It's not going to be safe to move around."

"So…" Shaw looked at the three of them. "Let's go sledding!"

The 4 friends stared at her. Harold cleared his throat.

"Shaw, while that does sound like fun, we are surrounded by a lot of snow. It would take hours to even get to the street, much less somewhere we can sled."

"Well then, we'd better get started!" Shaw shoveled the rest of her food into her mouth and launched herself away from the table. She grinned at Root. "Race you!"

She took off running towards the bedroom, but when Root didn't follow immediately, she stopped and turned to glare at her.

Despite herself, Root smiled and started to get up. She started after Shaw, glancing over her shoulder at John. "Careful, John. Sameen's going to hold it over your head forever if she shovels more snow than you."

"Oh, there is no way he could ever shovel more than me," Shaw bragged, crossing her arms. "I am the superior athlete, after all."

John looked at Harold. Harold rolled his eyes and nodded. "Oh, go on. Lionel and I will clean up."

Even as he said that, Lionel was sliding off his stool, walking to John and Shaw. "I'm not getting left out of this! I'm an athlete, too."

"That's the spirit, Lionel." John grinned and patting his shoulder. He looked at Shaw. "Are you even tall enough to see over the snow? It's almost 2 feet, you know."

"Oh ho," Shaw laughed, stepping towards him. She bumped his chest with hers. "Tough talk for someone who doesn't even have a six-pack."

They glared at each other. Suddenly, they both bolted towards the bedrooms, Lionel chasing after. Root and Harold's laughter floated behind them.

Shaw ran into her guest room, ripping her bag open and pulling out her clothing. When she'd packed everything, she thought she'd brought too much, now she was glad for her over-preparation.

She put on thermal underwear and pulled her sweatpants over them. She quickly pulled on a shirt and her coat, running out of the room, awkwardly hopping as she pulled on her boots. She realized she'd left something behind.

"Oh, no! My mittens!" She cried, turning around. Something soft hit her in the face and she caught it. "Mittens!"

She looked at Root, rushing down the hall towards her. "Go, Shaw!"

Shaw ran to the garage, stuffing her hands into her mittens. From behind, she heard John's indignant cry.

"Whose team are you on, Root? I've known you longer!" He burst into the garage behind Shaw grabbing for a shovel.

"Yeah, but Shaw is cuter," Root replied, stepping back out of their way as the athletes ran back through the house, each with a shovel, to the front doors.

When they got to the exit, they paused. Harold's front door was frosted glass and through the double panes, they could see just how high the snow had piled up. Lionel whistled.

"Huh," Shaw said, thoughtfully, "I might actually be too short."

John snorted and shook his head. "We might have to team up."

Shaw nodded, suddenly determined. "Count to three and yank the doors open?"

"Please don't," Harold's voice said. They turned as he walked out from the kitchen. "It's all just going to come inside. I'd suggest finding another way out."

The five friends thought for a moment. Any door on this floor they opened would lead to a cascade of snow entering the house. Lionel tapped his shovel on the ground, impatient. Shaw grunted, annoyed, and threw her head back glaring at the ceiling.

"The roof!" she exclaimed, running for the staircase leading to the second level. "Jump from the roof!"

John and Lionel whooped, following her. She could hear Harold and Root further behind and grinned. If she knew friendship would be pool parties and snow fights, she'd have made a friend years ago.

She got to the second-floor landing and waited for John. "Best point of exit?"

"I'd say the window in the master bath. It opens to the front yard." He led the way, holding the shovel in front of him like a gun.

Shaw was glad to see that the boys were as invested in their project as she was. They entered the bathroom and Shaw whistled. All the countertops were marble and the bathtub was the size of a jacuzzi. Lionel peaked into the jacuzzi tub.

"I know," John agreed. "This house is amazing."

Shaw nodded and handed her shovel to Lionel, moving to the window. "Alright," she said, unlocking the window and sliding it up. "There's a good amount of snow just on this ledge. We should knock it off. I don't think we can climb out if it's still here."

"Good idea," John agreed, starting to push it with his shovel.

Shaw grabbed hers back and they started helping. She heard Root and Harold chatting as they finally entered the bathroom.

"It was 4th grade! I'm telling you," Root was saying.

Harold shook his head. "I think it was 5th grade."

"What are you nerds talking about?" Shaw asked, viciously stabbing the snow.

Root laughed. "There was one year, when we were in elementary school that our teacher took the class on a fieldtrip to an ice skating rink- "

"Ooh!" Shaw's eyes lit up, her shovel flinging snow into the room, "Let's go ice skating!"

"Not today, Sameen," Root scolded. "Anyway, John kept trying to do jumps and ended up cracking the ice and falling through."

Shaw laughed, punching John in the arm. "Dumbo."

"Of course," Lionel snorted. "it had to be you."

John rolled his eyes. "What kind of ice is too fragile for jumping?" He wiped his forehead and stuck his head through the window. "Almost there!"

Shaw pushed her shovel through the window, letting it land on the ground below with a soft thump. "I'm going to climb through." She gave John a smug look. "Being small has its perks."

Harold spoke up as John cupped his hands for Shaw to use as a step. "This is a bad idea. You could fall."

Shaw rolled her eyes, sticking one foot in John's hands and the other onto the windowsill. "Don't be a baby, Baby." She started climbing out the window onto the snow-covered awning. "I'm not going to – "

The snow they'd loosened on the small overhang shifted beneath her, and she pitched forward over the edge. For a brief second, she felt weightless, then, with a muffled thud, she hit the ground. Pain spread through her and she groaned.

"Shaw!" John's voice floated down from the window. "We're coming!"

Shaw tried to pick herself up, but a searing pain in her arm and stomach stopped her. She might have broken her arm, but she didn't know why her stomach was hurting. She moved her legs, trying to find purchase with her shoes so she could stand.

"Sameen!" Root's panicked voice called. "We're here!"

From the corner of her eye, Shaw saw Root trampling through the snow, only in her dog pajamas and T-shirt. Root collapsed into the snow, next to her.

"No," Shaw growled, "put shoes on. You're going to freeze."

Root laughed, tears in her eyes. "You're so stupid. You're really hurt." Root turned toward the house, where John was crunching towards them. Harold hovered in the doorway, phone in hand. "Call 911, Harold! She's losing a lot of blood."

"What?" Shaw asked, confused. "What blood?"

"I swear to fucking god, Sameen," Root stated, hands hovering like she was scared to touch her, "If you die, too, I'm not going to make it."

Shaw tried to reassure her, but her eyes were so heavy. The world went white.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Shaw opened her eyes, groaning against the sudden light. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck. She raised her arm, but realized she had a cast. The memory of falling from Harold's window flooded back to her. She groaned again, cursing her competitiveness.

She tried to sit up, but gasped as her vision went white with pain. She pushed her blankets down. Her stomach was wrapped with gauze. Shaw couldn't think of what happened.

A nurse pushed the door open and smiled at her. "Hello, sleepyhead. How do you feel?"

"Like I tried to kiss a semi," she answered, giving a small smile. "What's wrong with my stomach?"

"When you fell from the window," the nurse said, moving to her bedside, "You landed on a shovel. The blade pierced your skin. You're lucky your friends are such quick thinkers."

"Whoa," Shaw breathed. She brushed her hands over the bandage, wondering how deep the injury was and how close she'd come to dying. "Did I need stitches?"

The nurse looked at her, appraisingly. "Yes. You did. About 20."

Shaw grinned. "Can I see them?"

"Not right now, but next time we clean them, you'll see."

Shaw nodded, satisfied. "Great."

"Are you interested in medicine?" the nurse asked, checking the screens Shaw was attached to.

She shrugged. "I'm thinking about going to med school. I'm mostly interested in injuries and what people can survive."

"The human body is amazing." The nurse smiled. "You're healing much faster than expected. I think you'll have those stitches out pretty soon. Normally, your arm would take six weeks or so to heal, but at the rate it's going, it might be closer to three."

"I've always healed quickly. I broke my leg when I was little and only had a cast for a week. It's my superpower."

"That's impressive!" The nurse gave her a thoughtful look. "You know," she said, her tone odd, "we have internships for high school students. It's a small hospital, so you'd have work to do. If you make good grades and have some free time, you should apply."

"I will!" Shaw said, thrilled. "What's your name?"

"I'm nurse McCarthy. Elaine McCarthy." She held her hand out for Shaw to take.
"You can call me Control. It's the not-so-fond nickname the other nurses have given me." Nodding over Shaw's shoulder, she smiled, slightly. "Your friend hasn't left your side since they brought you in a few days ago."

Shaw looked to her other side and saw Root, curled up in a chair with a blanket thrown over her. Shaw stared at her. Root had been here this whole time. Shaw remembered her words. 'If you die, too, I won't make it.' The sight of Shaw covered in blood must have been too familiar for Root.

The nurse slipped out of the room and Shaw sighed. Now that she had friends who cared about her, she had to be more careful. Alicia and Nathan were probably worried sick. They had been out of town for a work conference. She never texted them to see if they'd gotten home.

Shaw closed her eyes and laid down again. She didn't know how to feel about this accident, how to act. She wasn't worried about her life and she hadn't worried in years, but there were other people who did. People who could love her, support her, help her, and she just didn't know what to do.

She didn't think she could ever love them back. She had never loved anything. She thinks she might have loved her parents, but five years later, she couldn't reach the feeling. Maybe she could pretend.

Maybe she could pretend for Root. Shaw was self-aware enough to know she cared about Root, at least as much as she was able. She'd known Root for six months, but a life without her would feel empty for a little while. She could pretend to love Root back. Maybe they could actually be girlfriends. That would make Root so happy.

Shaw looked at Root again and smiled when Root's nose twitched as she dreamed. Root deserved some happiness, and if Shaw could give that to her, she would. She sighed. Apparently she'd made the decision to date Root. She wished her parents were around to talk to. Her mother would know exactly what to say.

Shaw's cheek itched and she reached her hand up, freezing when her fingers came away wet. Was she crying? She could only remember one time when she had cried. Three months after her parents died.

She'd been ten years old and living in a group home in New York City. She had no friends, no support, no future. As she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling she had thought about her parents and her cat. What had happened to that cat when they never came home?

Shaw checked her face, but only the one tear had escaped. Looking at Root, she saw a tear roll down her cheek, too. Shaw wondered what she was crying about. Root stirred, wiping her face and blinking her eyes open. She looked around, getting her bearings. Her eyes landed on Shaw.

"Sameen?" Root asked, standing and letting the blanket slide to the floor. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," Shaw confirmed, glad that her voice and face gave nothing away.

Root grinned and closed the gap between them, resting her hands on Shaw's side. "I'm so glad. I was terrified."

"I would never do that to you, Root."

"What," Root tried to joke, anxiety apparent in her eyes, "Die? You would never die if we're friends?" Root laughed. "Guess you're stuck with me, then!"
"I don't want to be friends anymore," Shaw said quietly.

Root's eyes widened and Shaw could almost hear her heart pounding in her chest. "What? What happened? What -"

"Oh my god," Shaw muttered, closing her eyes. "Root. Relax. I'm saying that I want to be your girlfriend."

"Oh," Root breathed. She laughed. "Well, that's ok, then."

Cracking an eye open, Shaw smiled at the dumb look on Root's face. Root was glowing, so happy she seemed to give off light. Shaw opened her other eye, and reached out, taking Root's hand with her good one.

"Don't make this weird. Nothing is changing."

"Ok," Root agreed, sounding too casual. "Yeah. It's the same thing, new label."

Shaw squinted at her for a moment. Rolling her eyes, she patted her hospital bed. "Come on."

Root climbed in quickly, settling at her side. She carefully draped her arm over Shaw's stomach, resting her cheek on Shaw's shoulder. It felt nice to lay with Root. It felt easy. Shaw closed her eyes, relaxing. She liked that Root didn't pressure her to be anything that she wasn't. Root liked her exactly like she was.

The door to the hospital room banged open and Root jumped against her, sitting up. The boys had come, with Lionel almost breaking down the door. Harold had a box of chocolates, and John was holding a bunch of balloons.

"Jesus," Shaw muttered. "Too much."

"I wasn't the only one who was worried." Root smiled. "You've made friends."

Despite her determination to not get attached, Shaw was realizing that she had a life in this nowhere town. She had fit in here so seamlessly and now it was going to be harder to leave. Maybe that was ok. She had options. Shaw reached her good hand out to Harold.

"Alright," she sighed dramatically. "Give me the chocolate and win my love."

They laughed.