Kayo stepped in, offering Virgil a small smile when finding him awake and for once alone, apparently playing solitaire.

'Where's Scott?'

'Physio.'

'Ah.'

She pulled a chair over to Scott's normal spot and sat down.

Since, well, everything, she'd been visiting more and more. It felt like he'd become the only recognisable thing in her life.

She'd told him this and he had simply laughed, lifting the grey artificial hand gone. "Really?"

She understood his point, but it had, and still did, annoy her. It was a shallow outlook, and try as she might he had ignored her when she said he was more than just his hands, that there was more to him than just the limbs, just like he kept telling Scott he wasn't just his sight. She hadn't felt this adrift or confused since she'd lost her family and come to live with them so long ago but he was still there to anchor in place, and it had nothing to do with his hands.

She studied him, playing cards in hand. It was, if she was honest, a comforting sight. The cuts and bruises from everything had long healed, leaving only a few noticeable scatterings of scars. Physically he was all better, or as well as he was going to get, but internally she knew it was a completely different story.

She said his name, trying to catch his attention. It was painful when he didn't look up. Each and every time it sent a sharp ache, a stabbing pain, through her heart when nothing happened. Every time she had to take a moment, take a breath.

She reached out, setting a hand on his leg, the action causing him to look up. He smiled, bright golden-brown eyes searching her face. Scars or not, he was still a handsome man. He still had a good heart, still cared.

She loved him.

It was a thought that took her by surprise. blindsided her, honestly. The more she considered it, though, the more she had to admit there was truth to it.

She loved him.

She always had to a degree. Growing up, she had been drawn to John, he was attractive and intelligent, he listened and cared. Virgil, though, had, she was now realising, always been the person she went to when she needed something. Anything, really.

He had always been there for her, and she had always tried to return the favour.

She loved him, she knew it. She had to be honest.

Chewing on her lip, she toyed with the blanket, watching him frown as she tried to find the words, the way to confess this.

'Virgil…'

'Yes?'

'Do… do you remember when your father brought me "home"?'

'You make it sound you were a lost puppy he found by the side of the road, but, yes. I do.'

She couldn't help but scoff in amusement. 'Trust me, I felt like a lost puppy. I was scared and confused, my English… wasn't the best either, let's be honest.'

'It wasn't that bad.'

Still smiling, she reached out to take his hand, lacing her fingers through his, watching his confusion from the corner of her vision. 'I was scared and confused. Lost. I was grieving. But you came over after an hour and introduced yourself, acted like it was nothing different or…' She shrugged a little. 'You were there.'

He looked to their hands. 'I was hardly going to ignore you. You were going to be living with us.'

'You were the first, though, you took the time to help me through it, with everything.'

'I don't see what you're getting at.'

'It has always been you, Virgil. You've always been there and even now, with everything that's happened, you've put it aside to help me. You sat and listened to me go on and on and you've spent the time convincing me that I didn't— couldn't have done anything about John.' She watched him for a moment, watched the gears turn as he tried to make something out of what she was saying.

'My point is it's always been you. No matter what or when, it's you and after all of this I realise that…' Now it was her turn to struggle with the words. She grasped for them, feeling them slip through her fingers.

Part of her was telling her not to do this. The sensible piece of her was telling her this was just a guilty rebound. She was doing this because it would make them both feel better. She hadn't stopped John, she'd missed the warning signs, and he had hurt his brother. He had left him feeling broken and wrong. She could fill that blank and assure him he was okay, and in turn she would fill the holes in herself. The rational and sensible part of her was screaming to stop. It was all too soon.

She ignored it, though. Crushed the voice and shoved it in a box.

He waited, eyebrow arched.

She took a breath and jumped. If she didn't, she knew she'd never do it. She let her mouth run, the words tumble free, gaze focused entirely on the bed as her heart began to race.

'After everything that has happened I realised that I really care for you, and you've done so much that I understand if you say no. That this is wrong or too soon or a bad time or whatever. I do, I get that. I mean you're probably right and I should stop. I should, shouldn't I? I'll go.'

Mind racing, she went to stand, feeling like a stupid teenager again. 'Idiot.' Unable to pull her hand free, she finally looked back to him.

'What on earth are you trying say?' he asked, tugging on her hand to get her to sit down again.

She really did feel like a teenager now, mouth oddly dry as she fumbled over herself, brain tripping.

'I, uh, I- I… I think I kind of love you?' she blurted, feeling herself blush and saying a swift prayer for the ground to open up and swallow her

'Idiot'