Ivy set the thoughts she'd been having about a future together aside. She pushed away the memory of emotion filling those blue eyes. It had been too good to be true. But she didn't need him. There was a whole world out there. She would find her own way.

Lucy's hand ached from the hours of long-hand she'd devoted to the latest chapter. In keeping up with the student's papers her own work had suffered a bit. It felt good to get back to the world she was creating for herself. This was why she'd broken away from her mother's vision for her. So much of what she was writing now was inspired by Wyatt, but it was still hers.

Her heart ached thinking about leaving the little crowded apartment. She'd felt welcomed here, but now it felt empty and painful to be in such close proximity to Wyatt. It would be tight, maybe impossible to find a place on her own. The listings lead her back to other apartment shares and her certainty wavered. Why look for another housemate when she got along with him so well? But despite what Rufus and Jiya had said, Lucy couldn't shake the feeling that Wyatt looked down on her. Her comfort sharing space with him had been shattered. It was time to move on.

A group of voices entered her hearing. Many feet stomped up the stairs leading to their apartment and she heard dull cursing and a groan. Lucy reached the door just as a young person holding a fist full of keys shoved it open. Lucy recognized her but couldn't place her immediately, her mind going to the students she'd met at the University. The next group in made things clear. Two taller young people were on either side of Wyatt. Wyatt was bleeding.

The world narrowed to the bare facts. Wyatt's head was bleeding. He was holding his arm gingerly. The pant leg on the same side as his other injuries was torn. The apartment suddenly had something like five to eight young people milling about. There was entirely too much chaos for Lucy.

"Okay, everyone but you, you and you, out!" she barked. She had pointed to the two people holding up the frighteningly pale Wyatt, and the person holding the keys. She went on. "Bring him to the couch. You can find bandages in the bathroom, there. You, please bring a glass of water from the kitchen. You with the keys, fill me in."

"Lucy," Wyatt said weakly but she cut him off.

"Wyatt, you get settled. I'll talk with you about why exactly you are here and not at the hospital in a moment."

Lucy put together the story from what was related to her in a stumbling fashion. The students were part of the volunteer program Wyatt participated in. They'd been refurbishing a classic car with him for weeks. The car was close to done. That night as they'd been leaving, Wyatt took off on his bike as usual. Unknown to him, one of the students had spilled oil on the garage floor. Too embarrassed to admit the mistake, they'd tried to clean it up, but a large streak of slick viscous fluid remained. Wyatt's tires spun out on that spot as he drove out of the bay.

Thankfully, his accident was witnessed by the knot of students now occupying their apartment. None of Wyatt's limbs seemed broken, but the abrasions and friction burns were clearly painful and could easily become infected without proper care. Lucy's worry for her housemate flared into the safer expression of anger and frustration. She grabbed the first aid supplies from the girl who brought them to her and started lacing into Wyatt for his irresponsiblity as she lavished alcohol on his exposed wounds. Wyatt winced, she continued on not dwelling on whether the physical pain he felt might be worse or easier than the emotional lashes she doled out.

"Has anyone called an ambulance?" Lucy interrupted her own harrangue. She glared at the taller fellow who had supported Wyatt. "Randy, right? Call 911 please."

"No." Wyatt put his hand on Randy's phone, blocking him physically from punching the numbers in. "It's really fine, Lucy. It's just cuts and scrapes. I've had much worse."

Her eyes went wide, "Why am I not surprised? Despite whatever miracle kept you from dying from sepsis last time, I'm not standing by while you risk complications." She looked back at the young man standing by, "Randy?" She nodded at the phone.

"No! Lucy, I can't.." Wyatt looked at her pleading. His eyes darted around to the young people. Lucy realized he was embarrassed. Her mind ran through a few scenarios, then one clicked home.

"Okay! Randy and, what's your name? Gil? Please help Wyatt into his bedroom and help him get out of those clothes." Lucy firmly kept herself from thinking one single thought about the words she was saying. "Andrea, could you call Wyatt's employer and let him know he had an accident at the garage? I'll get the first aid supplies and be in to help Wyatt in a moment. Then all you all can head out. We've got this in hand. I'll help Wyatt get to emergency."

Lucy used her best approximation of her mother's teacher voice and kept the youths active. Wyatt tried once more to protest, but a raised eyebrow and a knowing nod from Lucy got him to relax and submit to the aid surrounding him. After a flurry of activity that ended with Wyatt lying on his bed in undershirt and boxers with Lucy by his side, tending to his injuries with a much softer touch than before. Wyatt heaved a sigh of relief.

He put a hand to hers where it held sterile gauze doused in alcohol in contact with his abraded temple. "Thank you, Lucy," he breathed.

Lucy's heart hammered. Her breath stilled. She gazed into his eyes and felt unmoored, like she was falling into deep water. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened them and gave him a bright, saccharine smile. "Of course, Wyatt. I get it. You don't have health insurance, do you?"

Wyatt visibly winced. This time she knew it was not from tenderness to his physical injury since she had pulled her hand away slightly as she spoke.

"I've got insurance, just...the deductibles are enormous. It would eat up what I make in a year just to pay for a few days in the hospital."

"You shouldn't need that, your injuries really aren't bad. No problem really, so long as you get adequate care."

"Yeah, just.." Wyatt turned his head away, pulled his hand away from hers and rested it gingerly on his chest. She saw how his breath hitched. The shock must be wearing off, bruises and minor muscle tears all through his torso starting to be felt. He looked back at her and the contact with the bright blue of his eyes jolted through her. I haven't been so close to him in so long, Lucy thought. She realized he was speaking.

"..I had to declare bankruptcy. It's hard to come back from that. I try to be a lot more careful in my driving. Always wear my helmet. I did today! I'm not sure where this scratch came from."

"It was when the kids were trying to get you away from the bike. It was still running. The handle hit you."

Wyatt's eyes flew wide again, "What are you, a psychic?"

She grinned. "Andrea described it to your boss. I've got ears, don't I?" She resumed her attentions to his wounds. She lay a calm hand near his knee to warn him that she would be cleaning the long scrape that lined his calf. "Hang in there, Wyatt. We'll figure this out together."

She listened to his breath ease itself out of his lungs in a long, slow motion. She could feel the tension ease from his body, even down to his toes. He nodded, and closed his eyes. His breathing continued to modulate, slowing, and he was asleep before she finished with all his cuts. After she was done, Lucy pulled a sheet up over him. Maybe taking a bit too long to linger, taking in the lean angles of his body. The soft fall of his brown hair. She tucked the fabric around him and breathed a sigh of relief herself.

This could have been much, much worse.

After several calls, Lucy found a critical care office that was open. Wyatt could get examined there at a much lower cost than checking into an emergency room. She called up Rufus for a ride and the three of them headed off to the clinic at a small strip mall not far from the beach. Lucy and Rufus assisted Wyatt back down the stairs from the apartment. Each took an arm around their shoulders for the assist. Lucy felt an all too familiar warmth fill her stomach at the feel of his arm around her. Despite everything it felt good to hold him, his side comfortably resting against hers. She focused on the logistics and looked anywhere except at Wyatt's eyes. Once they reached the car, Lucy helped him stretch out in the back seat as Rufus started the car. She tried to maintain her neutral distance, but as Wyatt leaned back into the seat, he caught her hand and pulled her closer. Her gaze was trapped.

"Thank you, Lucy." He held her hand in both of his, awkwardly. His eyes bored into hers, as if he was trying to communicate something. She saw sincerity. She saw gratitude. She saw warmth and affection. She looked away and put that sugar-bright smile back on her face.

"It's no trouble, Wyatt."

They reached the medical office with no incident. Inside was crowded and plain. Cheap plastic chairs nudged each other around a table laden down with faded magazines. Rufus and Lucy looked around, but there was barely room for Wyatt to sit down, much less both of his friends.

"Rufus, you can head out," Lucy found herself saying.

"But how will you get home?"

Lucy looked at Wyatt, realizing she had no real authority here. Her housemate nodded slightly and answered. "Mind if we give you a call later if we need it? I'm sure this will take a while. Or we can get a rideshare." Wyatt gave his friend a hug, wincing but determined. "Thank you so much."

Rufus nodded, snapping a quick picture of Wyatt who gave him the thumbs up with his bandaged hand. "You got it. No worries. Text me one way or the other. Jiya and I have a date to talk caterers, so you'd be doing me a solid if you do need a ride." He hugged Lucy briefly, murmuring "You rock." Then he was gone.

Lucy had a moment of worry. What the hell am I doing? I cannot deal with this much vulnerable Wyatt. My heart.. Then she dismissed the thought. He was her friend. He had been there for her when she needed him. She would be damned if she would leave him here wounded and alone. "Let's get you comfortable, Wyatt. I'll gather whatever paperwork they have for you."

It took over an hour for someone to look at Wyatt, but he assured Lucy this was far shorter of a wait than would be expected if they'd gone to the hospital.

"You still should have called 911 right away!" She couldn't keep from telling as she rejoined him in a small consulting room. Wyatt was now covered with a shapeless cloth jacket covered in hearts and roses. His lap was draped with a large paper sheet. Lucy cut off her lecture and stifled a giggle. Wyatt glared back at her.

"What? You try to look sexy in one of these." He realized what he had said and turned crimson. Lucy couldn't help herself. Something about the absurdity of the moment took over and she stepped near, smoothing an errant hair behind his ear.

"You would look sexy in a burlap bag, Wyatt." She was standing very close. Warmth from his skin burned her wrist. Her hand lingered, landed on his shoulder. She saw him lick his lips.

"Lucy..."

A firm rap at the door startled them both. Lucy stumbled backward, nearly tripping over a chair as she tried to sit as far from Wyatt as she could. A tall fellow with curly brown hair, wearing plain blue scrubs and a distracted expression on his face introduced himself as Doctor Jenkins. After confirming that Wyatt's girlfriend ("housemate") was okay to stay in the room during the consultation, the doctor asked Wyatt questions about the accident. Lucy filled in details she'd gleaned from the students, things Wyatt was unsure of or hadn't been able to see. Lucy left the room when the physical inspection happened, but they brought her back in for the diagnoses, prescription and recommendations for recovery.

"I don't want you over-exerting yourself for the next few days. Bruises and pains that you don't feel now are going to show themselves. Can you help him with household chores, food preparation and so on if needed, Lucy?"

"Oh, you don't need-" Wyatt started.

Lucy nodded vigorously. "It's no trouble. Absolutely." She saw a look from Wyatt that ignited something in her chest, then averted her eyes. I mean nothing to him. I'm just helping him like I would anybody in this position.

The doctor sent a prescription to a nearby pharmacy electronically, gave Wyatt a short lecture on the dangers of motor cycles replete with sobering fatality statistics, then swept off in the direction of a crying child they could hear through the thin walls of the clinic.

Wyatt stood up, leaning on Lucy in exhaustion, still tender from the exam. She breathed in the mellow spice of his soap, mingling with the acerbic tang of alcohol. She imagined for one scant moment that maybe Rufus and Jiya were right. Maybe she had misunderstood what had passed between Wyatt and his friends after the party. Wyatt's arm closed around her shoulder warmly. He breathed his thanks to her as they crossed the waiting room floor. She looked him in the eyes and saw that soft, grateful expression again. And something else that she thought she had seen during the party before everything went wrong.

They reached the parking lot and she helped Wyatt lean up against the building to wait. Taking out her phone, she searched for the rideshare app. She absently thumbed away a notification that she'd been tagged in an Instagram photo when a familiar, though far from welcome, voice was heard.

"Wyatt!" Jessica and two friends scurried across the parking lot towards them. Wyatt stared in disbelief, then winced as she grabbed him around the waist. "You're hurt!" she went on. "You poor baby!" Lucy said a brief grateful prayer that they'd met the women outside the office. The level of chaos already swirling around the waiting room would have been pitched up by several degrees of magnitude by the volume of Jessica's voice alone.

The blonde started directing her two friends to have one of them pull her car around, and for the other to help Wyatt make it to the vehicle. Wyatt tried to wave off the help, saying they could wait for a car, but Lucy could see the paleness in his demeanor. He needed to get home.

"Wyatt, take the favor. Thank you, Jessica. This is extremely thoughtful of you," Lucy said thinking skeptically of the other woman's motives but grateful for the actual fact of the ride, nonetheless. Wyatt stared at Lucy, then nodded, gratefully taking the assistance offered to him. He started hobbling towards the car that pulled up.

"Of course, Lucy. When I saw Rufus post on Insta that Wyatt had been hurt, I called Jen and Lise right away. Anything to help my man, right?"

There it was. Lucy smiled wanly and narrowed her eyes. After the stress of the day, something in Lucy snapped. "So good of you to want to help, Jessica. But I think that's for Wyatt to say, isn't it? If he's 'your man,' all of a sudden."

If a human could hiss, Lucy could swear she heard Jessica spit one one out. The blonde woman came very close to Lucy. She could feel the intensity of her gaze. "Wyatt's mine. Just because you've moved into his place and wormed your way into his life doesn't mean you could ever take my place."

Lucy felt her heartbeat race once more. Thoughts tumbled through her head about all the times she'd seen Jessica throw herself at Wyatt. The humor and patience he'd displayed even in the face of the most drunken and disorderly pawing. She saw a reason Jessica thought he was still hers: Wyatt is loyal. He was being true to the memory of their relationship, and standing by Jessica as a friend. Long after anything remained for him. For a moment hope lanced through Lucy. He really doesn't want her. Maybe me? Then a dawning certainty offered itself to Lucy. That's who Wyatt is. He's is there for the people around him. The kids, her, Jiya and Rufus, even pushy as all get out Jessica. There was something driving him to do for others.

Lucy's heart dropped. The small remaining percentage of her heart that did not belong to Wyatt Logan gave up the ghost and surrendered. Just as she became convinced that there was no way he felt anything for her. She was one of his projects. She could feel grateful, but not flattered. He had been nothing but respectful. She could do the same and accept his friendship. Return his care. But not be like Jessica, expecting more than he was ready to give.

Lucy came back to earth suddenly. As her thoughts had fallen into place, she had ignored the blonde woman. Jessica was stepping up in her space, bare inches separating their faces. Lucy surfaced to hear the other woman talking about her history with the surfer. In far too graphic detail.

Lucy took a step back. She shook her head, dark locks twitching, and did the last thing the blonde woman expected. She smiled at Jessica.

"Thanks, Jess. Really." She stepped closer again and put her hand on the other woman's arm. Jessica raised it as if in defense, but Lucy gave her an honest warm smile. "He really needs to rest. Thanks so much for arranging a ride. There's no room for me. It's not a bad walk and it would be good to be out in the fresh air after that office."

Jessica struggled to keep up. She had been ramping herself up for a vicious screaming match, or fight if she got lucky. Instead, Lucy backed down and gave her the floor. She shrugged and took the win, hopping into the car. Lucy waved at the receding car, catching a glimpse of the confused look on Wyatt's face as they took off without Lucy.

Before heading back home, Lucy found her feet taking her down to the shoreline. The light was growing dimmer. Sunset was underway. She found a spot on the sand and watched the sky glimmer with reds, pinks and blues. Bonfires began shining like stars from the growing the blackness of the beach. Lucy took her shoes off. She dug her toes into the cool granules of sand beneath her. She lay back and watched the lights in the sky shimmer into view.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Wyatt.

You okay? I'm sorry they left you there. Thank you so much for your help today.

Lucy smiled.

It's fine. You alright? Got your meds?

Yeah, we stopped on the way home.

Good.

Lucy went back to looking at the sky. The phone buzzed in her hands again.

Luce, you coming home?

You got laundry you need me to do?

That doctor was ridiculous. No. I can clean my own damn clothes. I'm not an invalid.

I'll be back soon.

Good.