Ivan was lying in the hospital bed. A short sleeved hospital gown let Kat and Natalya see his arms: both of them were wrapped from the base of the hand to the elbow in crisp, white gauze. They both gasped at how different he was from the last time they each had seen him. He was unconscious, the only movement coming from his chest rising and falling.

"He'd lost quite a bit of blood by the time he got here..." The doctor said in an English accent. "... both of his wrists were cut deeply, and looked fairly intentional. He needed a few transfusions given his mass, and the staff cleaned him the best they could."

Kat looked at the doctor. She was shorter than herself, a few inches at least. 5' 6" about. The doctor had blond hair reaching about her mid back, styled in pig tails and swept either shoulder. The color of her glasses reminded Kat of Ivan's bathroom floor. A name tag on her coat said 'Kirkland, A. MMD.'

"There were wounds besides intentional ones. Based on your..." She motioned to Kat "... and the paramedics description of the scene, we're assuming he hit something made of glass with his arms, then used the shards to... well you know." She stopped short, noticing Kat's pale green color and Natalya's shivering. "Once he wakes up, he should make a full recovery. The scars should fade away with time."

Kat and Natalya stood there, dumbfounded. Their brother, in the hospital, from attempted suicide. The idea had them before, but was now taking full effect. Now that they had finally seen him like this. His defeated body, still holding his soul. He'd put many holes in it, but how long until the soul leaked out? 'Hopefully not for a while...' Kat thought 'a long while.'

"I can't look at him." Natalya said, turning towards the door. "I can't look at him the way he is." She burst through the door with fluid steps, Kat's steps stuttering after her. "Natalya! Wait!"

This was bad. Natalya was angry. No telling what she'd do in this situation. It was always different with her. Sometimes, if the conditions were right, she'd just sit at her desk and think about it. But those conditions were that she was she was actually IN her dorm room and what had made her angry was caused over the phone, or another indirect communication form. These were not those conditions.

The last situation that resembled this, Alfred and Ivan had been arguing over who could manage their club better, their club being something from high school about the board game Risk, the closest thing one can come to world domination: Ivan, already the leader of a few respected clubs; or Alfred, the snotty teenage American know-it-all. Five years ago, when Natalya was seventeen, she decided to attend a meeting with her big brother. The argument sent Natalya over the edge, leaving Alfred with a bloody nose and Ivan with Natalya's foot print on his chest coupled with a broken rib.

She couldn't believe such a feud was started over a board game, and was lucky the meeting wasn't actually at the school that day. She was lucky the parent's didn't press charges.

This time, Natalya was dangerous and moving. And she had a car. Kat followed Natalya closely behind, giving questions Natalya practically refused to answer. "What are you doing? Where are you going?" Kat watched Natalya grab the car keys out of her purse

They both walked outside, into the cold night, and got to Natalya's tiny, two-door car. Surprisingly, Natalya let Kat into the passenger's seat. "Natalya. What are you trying to do?!" Kat exclaimed, closing the door. Natalya stepped into her seat slowly, closing the door and locking both of them. Dropping the keys into her lap, she grasped the steering wheel and began sobbing.

Not violent sobbing. Not quiet sobbing. Just... sobbing. Natalya grabbed the wheel and placed her head on it, not hard enough to activate the horn. Kat sat there, watching. That was all she could do. Even since they were young, she had never seen her younger sister cry. "Natalya..." Kat began, not realizing it was difficult to find the words. She'd had many friends need emotional support before, so she was more than willing to provide. However, she didn't know how to comfort her sister at all.

"It's... It's alright." Kat attempted, to no avail. Kat sat there, watching her younger sister let out her emotions. She attempted to take her sister's hand. "Natalya..." Her sister took her hand away and leaned back on the seat, having stopped her tears to some degree. "It's just..." Natalya paused, having equal trouble finding words. "Why?" She questioned. "Why would he do this?"

Kat had been wondering the same thing for as long as she'd known. Since she found him on his bathroom floor. "I don't know." Kat responded. It was the only correct answer she could give. "But he's going to survive the night. And when he wakes up, we'll both be there to comfort him. And then we'll get our answers."

Natalya was breathing slowly, having stopped crying completely. She turned her head toward her sister. "You really think he will? He'll just tell us? He'll just be so open with why you found him in a pool of... stuff... with glass in his arms?"

Kat thought for a moment. "He will. Because we're his family."

Natalya looked at her sister, her expression returning to the stoic condition it had been when they first saw each other that day. "I'll take your word for it. That's at least something to believe." Natalya said, the smallest hint of malice in her words. Natalya was not one to be lied to.

"Alright, so what now?" Kat asked. Natalya padded around her lap for the keys she had dropped. "We're going to Ivan's. We've seen him, he's okay, and we'll be lucky if no one has robbed his house."

Kat stopped and thought about that for a second. "Okay, let's just go." She said as Natalya started the car. That thought was not welcome at the moment. The only thing to be thought of right now, was for Ivan to get better. And a house intruder was not something he should worry about.