Chapter Twenty-One: Before the Sun Sets
The gods do not protect fools. Fools are protected by more capable fools.—Ringworld, Larry Niven

Roger tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of the car with the beat of the constant music that blasted from the speakers, staring at the road straight ahead of him. April would be almost off work by now; he'd have to go pick her up, just like he always did whenever she had to work past dark. She hadn't been working much lately, though… After she found out about Jessica, she'd had to take over a week off work, and that was after she'd been in California for so long… She was lucky she still had a job at this point.

Still, working was good for her. Kept her mind off of things, the way little else could. God knew Roger had tried, whenever she was around, but her dark mood persisted, as did the random bouts of tears… Just knowing that she was hurt and he couldn't do anything bothered him. Enough that his arms now had far too many fresh track marks on them, marks April never noticed, too caught up in her own stress, and who could blame her? Enough that the newest of those marks was barely an hour old. April wasn't the only one who needed to keep her mind off of things… just handled it in a different way.

He sighed, then growled under his breath and hit the brake as he hit his third red light in a row. Damn it. At this rate, he wouldn't make it to the diner by the time April got off work. He drummed his palms against the wheel quietly, humming to himself, and waited impatiently for the light to turn green. This was taking much too long… When it finally turned green, he hit the gas hard and sped forward, whipping easily around another, slower-moving car. Should take… ten more minutes until he reached the diner. He glanced to the clock on the dashboard of the car, the numbers on the display glowing electric green in the dark. He'd still be a little late. He swore under his breath. Of course he had to keep April waiting, even if completely by accident…

He didn't look up soon enough, and missed the next stoplight, also red. He blew through it—and in an instant another car slammed into the driver's side of Roger's car with a crash of metal, shattering glass, and immediate pain. Roger slammed forward against the steering wheel, hard enough to knock the wind out of him, the seatbelt cutting into his chest. Pain blackened his vision, and everything around him screeched to a halt. When he could see again, he grimaced and leaned forward, resting his head against the steering wheel—and immediately decided better of it at the sharp pain in his chest. He sat back once more, and carefully unbuckled the seat belt, trying to breathe through the pain. It wasn't easy.

A woman rushed up to the window on the driver's side—it had been open—and asked, "Oh my God, are you alright?"

Roger almost laughed at the question out of sheer surprise, but given that he could barely breathe without some sort of pain, he fought down the laughter. "I think so. Except… my chest hurts." He glanced at the driver's side door and winced. It was crushed inward, that entire side of the car… He doubted he'd be able to even open the door. "Shit, my car…" And less than a month ago he'd been worried about April's sisters getting sand in it…

"Hang on, I'm calling 911," the woman said, and Roger nodded, closing his eyes and leaning back against the seat. Just breathe, in and out… Ignore those shooting pains in his chest. A few scrapes too, bleeding, but not much. Nothing big, he'd survive. He found himself thinking irrelevantly that now he'd definitely be late to see April, and wondering how long it would take her to realize something had happened when he didn't show up.

He stayed that way, eyes closed and leaning back, trying to breathe, until he heard sirens and opened his eyes again. Ambulance… paramedics… Lovely. One of the paramedics hurried to his side of the car and tried to open the door—as Roger had half-expected, it only opened an inch or two, then stopped with a creaking protest of metal. The paramedic paused for a moment, and then wrenched it fully open. Roger groaned softly. "The car's completely totaled, isn't it?"

The other man actually chuckled a little and beckoned a couple of other paramedics from the ambulance over to him. They were carrying a stretcher. "I'm afraid so. You hurt anywhere?"

"Chest hurts. Right… here." He pressed against his chest where the pain was, winced, and pulled his hand away.

"Probably a broken rib," the paramedic said as the others with the stretcher drew near. "We're gonna get you on this stretcher and take you to the hospital to check it out, okay?" He reached into the car to help Roger out, but Roger shoved him away a little and got out of the car on his own.

"I can stand up."

"But you probably shouldn't," the paramedic said, gently pushing him to sit down on the stretcher, then lay back, and Roger didn't fight with him, acquiescing with a minimum of resistance. "What's your name?" he asked Roger as they wheeled the stretcher to the ambulance. "Is there some place you'd like the hospital to call when we get there, tell them what happened?"

"Roger Davis. Could you… call my roommates and tell them? Make sure April's not the first one to know, though, if she picks up. She'll freak out."

They lifted him up into the ambulance, and the first paramedic grinned down at him. "I'll see what we can do." He started to fix an oxygen mask over Roger's face, but Roger pulled away a little.

"What's that for?"

"Just in case it's necessary. We're going to give you a general antibiotic to make sure none of those cuts get infected too… Don't worry about it." He put the oxygen mask on, this time without Roger protesting. "Everything's taken care of."

Roger sighed, grimaced as that produced another sharp jolt of pain, and closed his eyes, letting the paramedics do whatever the hell they were supposed to be doing without him worrying about it. He was a little more concerned about how April would react when she found out he'd been in a crash. After Jessica and everything…

The engine of the ambulance started, and they started moving, the thoroughly annoying sound of the siren in Roger's ears. As they drove, breathing became more difficult—not more painful, because the pain remained constant unless he took a particularly deep breath—just… difficult, as if his throat were suddenly constricting. He heard something rasping over the sound of the sirens, and realized it was his own breath, but somehow he wasn't too concerned about it. In a moment, the sound of sirens and his breathing was overridden by a sort of dull roaring in his ears, and one of the paramedics' voices, distantly, not loud enough to make out words, before he blacked out completely.

"April, I'm sure he's fine," Mark said gently, watching her as she paced across the living room. "He probably just got caught up with his band and forgot to call. I mean… It's Roger. He does this sort of thing all the time."

April stopped and turned to face him. "But he's never not been at the diner when he said he would. He'd have called and told me he was going to be late. Something."

Mark couldn't argue with that, and certainly couldn't very well reassure her. April returned to pacing, and Mark could only sigh and continue to watch her, wandering back and forth across the room, occasionally going to the window, turning away again…

"Oh, stop it, 'Ril," Maureen growled after watching her for a minute or two. She'd been sprawled on her back on the couch, but now propped herself up on her elbow to face April. "You act like it's not normal for him to just disappear." She paused, and then muttered under her breath, "He's probably just getting high somewhere."

April heard, and glared at her. "Don't even—"

"Maureen," Collins said warningly.

Both of the girls fell into a slightly embarrassed silence, though Maureen muttered grudgingly, "I'm just saying…"

"And no one wants to hear it," April said sharply. Coming from her, that tone surprised everyone, and for a moment nobody spoke or moved, April glaring at Maureen, the other four watching April warily.

When the phone rang, Benny picked it up without even waiting for the machine to screen it. Anything to break the tension—even, if necessary, a long conversation with Mrs. Cohen if she happened to be the one calling. "Hello?"

April glared at Maureen a moment longer, then turned and stalked to the windowsill while Benny listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone. It took April and the others a minute to realize that Benny's expression had suddenly become absolutely serious.

"Alright, we'll get there as soon as we can," he said into the phone. "Thank you." As he hung up, he turned to face April, and she froze.

"April," Benny said slowly, "don't panic, okay?"

She stared at him for a second or two, terrified of what he would say. "What happened?"

"Roger was in an accident." April felt suddenly dizzy, started to stand up but had to sit down again right away. Mark muttered something that sounded like a curse and hurried over to April, taking her hand gently.

"He broke a rib in the crash, but they said other than that he wasn't hurt too badly. But…" Benny paused, just for a second, but long enough that April felt a brief moment of absolute panic. "He had an allergic reaction to the penicillin they gave him, and they've got him on a respirator. They want us over there at the hospital."

April jumped to her feet and started for the door without waiting for him to say another word, Mark right behind her. Maureen and Benny started to follow, but Collins stopped the two of them before they could get out the door. "We can't all go—it'll get too crowded. Mark, April and I will go; you two just… stay here. We'll call you if anything happens."

Maureen stared at him open-mouthed. "But… I…"

Collins shot her a look. "Maureen, please stay." Before she could protest any more, he rushed out behind Mark and April, the door slamming behind him.