Vinyl slid the cycle to a stop, crashing roughly into the unknown shrubbery before scrambling off the bike. Plowing through the doors to the emergency center, the two-tone spinner was suddenly caught up in two strong arms, the disembodied appendages causing the woman to thrash reflexively. Symphony's voice swirled around her, attempting to penetrate the unruly panic pounding violently in her chest. Shaking off the arms, Vinyl opened her mouth to speak before turning, wide red eyes finally landing on the violinist behind her.

Lifting a calming hand to the distraught pianist, Symphony gripped firmly to the spinner's upper arms and forced the distracted focus to center. Vinyl merely clenched her jaw and stared hard at the player, crimson eyes swirling.

"What the fuck happened? Where's Octavia??"

"Vinyl, calm down. It's okay, she's okay. They took her for more X-rays."

"X-- what?"

Pulling the DJ toward the waiting area, Symphony swallowed her building emotion before pushing the antsy spinner into a chair, thrusting a cup of water into the trembling hands. Spitfire entered the room a moment later and held her hand out to the DJ, honey brown eyes calm against the raging garnet storm.

"Hey, give me your keys. I saw your bike sticking out of a bush, I'll move it."

Ignoring the comment, Vinyl stood and handed over the keys before pinning the violinist with a tumultuous stare.

"What happened to Octavia? Why is she in the hospital? What are the injuries?"

Spitfire clapped the woman on the shoulder and squeezed, lips twisting into a dissatisfied frown.

"We don't know yet. We only just got here. Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I was... I was writing. Where is she, I need to see her."

Passing the spinner off to Symphony, Spitfire tossed a knowing look to her lover before disappearing out the door. The lavender-haired player moved to pace a small section of floor before a row of chairs, a rush of tears again pooling in the glassy, teal eyes. Running a shaking hand through the pale locks, Symphony released a ragged breath and turned to regard the pale jockey.

"I don't know. I only got a call from her father, saying Octavia was rushed to the hospital, and that he was on a return train from New York, and that I should both check up on her and keep her mother out of here. Redheart only told me that she's roughed up."

Vinyl collapsed into the chair behind her, fingers lifting to tangle in the messy blue hair. Shaking her head, she suddenly sprung upward, legs moving her in a tight circle beside her chair. Biting her lip, Vinyl squeezed her eyes closed and breathed in deeply, hands flexing at her sides as she attempting to control the raging emotion threatening to spill forward. Spitfire entered the room quietly, Beauty and Parish following closely behind. Beauty surged forward and wrapped the still violinist in a hug, drawing a low rumble from the tense woman. Parish and Spitfire stood near the distressed jockey, but dared no further.

A hefty silence fell across the few players, a growing unease filtering through the small group. An impossible passage of time went unnoticed, the clock on the wall all but ignored by the increasingly worried gathering. Vinyl stood by the doorway, arms folded tightly around her midsection, red eyes closed tightly to ward off the tears moving on the cusp of consciousness. A familiar voice suddenly sounded to her left, causing the ruby eyes to snap open, spurring the jockey into movement. Descending upon the calm presence of Redheart, Vinyl wrung her hands nervously as she licked her lips, mind ignoring the pulsing worry from the shuffling musicians filing in behind her.

"For the love of fucking anyone, what the hell is going on, Red? How is she? What happened?"

The pale-haired nurse smiled automatically, hands tucking casually under her arms as she cautiously studied the tense bunch before her.

"Octavia will be okay, everyone. The doctor's still in there with her, so you can't go in yet, but it could have been a great deal worse."

Ignoring the burning emotion attempting to burst free, Vinyl stepped forward, fingers twisting into the pale scrubs of the familiar nurse.

"Red, what the fuck happened? Why is she here?"

"From what we've gathered, she was attacked. CPD is sending over an officer to take a statement from her, once she's regained her footing and wants to speak. She's groggy, at the moment."

Shaking her head, Vinyl opened her mouth to speak once more, only to be stopped by the emotional violinist. Clearing her throat, Symphony fisted the jockey's shirt before pinning the nurse with a disparaging sadness.

"What are her injuries, Red? Is she okay?"

"Doc'll be in soon, guys, okay? Just sit tight, we're taking good care of her. I'll come back when you can see her."

Redheart chanced a look to the haunted spinner, frowning briefly upon noticing the paling complexion. Symphony tugged the shirt in her hand, drawing the focus of the DJ.

"V, sit. It'll be okay."

Spitfire pulled gently on the spinner's hand, eyes glowing with a strong sense of support for the two women. With a strangled grunt, Vinyl broke the firm hold on her shirt and crept out of the waiting area, only to disappear into the still night just outside the door. Curling her fingers into her hair, Vinyl released a hiccupping cry, tempered by the burning tears finally escaping the rapidly dwindling control. The two-tone jockey curled downward, resting precariously on the balls of her feet as she attempted to control the reckless emotion slamming through her chest with brutal force.

Familiar hands wrapped around her forearms and brought her upward, striking gold eyes suddenly in focus.

"He-heartstrings?"

Lyra tugged the jockey into a quick hug before breaking away, cold fingers lifting to easily wipe away the tears from the spinner's pale face. Smiling, Lyra grasped the trembling fingers and sighed lightly.

"Pull yourself together, Scratch."

A bitter cough echoed from the blue-haired player, a hoarse cry mingling darkly with the small noise.

"I ignored her phone call, Lyra. It rang and I let it and then I put it in my pocket, and oh God, what if I--"

"Hey, hey... Calm down. You need to get ahold of yourself, okay? For Octavia."

"Lyr..."

The mint-haired player merely nodded her head and smiled sadly before threading her fingers with Vinyl's and led them back inside. Symphony looked up at the aggrieved jockey and offered a small smile before patting the chair beside her. Quietly taking a seat, Vinyl curled her hands in her lap as she felt her leg begin a nervous dance, knee bouncing high against the building anxiety coursing through her bones. Another stretch of time passed before the doctor entered the room, a perfected smile twisting his face.

"Good evening, everyone. Miss Melody will be fine, with time, though she did suffer a concussion, a separated shoulder and a few broken ribs. She's still very groggy and not feeling all that well, but one of you may see her. As for the rest of you, I suggest you all get home and get some rest before coming back tomorrow."

All eyes suddenly turned to Vinyl, causing the fidgeting musician to flush at the scrutiny. Symphony urged her upward, before standing herself, the remaining players following suit. Turning to the doctor, Symphony bobbed her head.

"Thank you, Doctor. Her father is on his way home from a trip, so he, too, will be in tonight."

Nodding, the man smiled before making a quiet exit. Beauty set her sights on the trembling DJ before she approached the woman, carefully wrapping her arms around the taller player.

"Take care of her tonight, okay? Make sure she knows we all love her and that we'll be back in the morning to see her."

Nodding mutely, the spinner offered a cautious smile before hugging her friends in turn, pausing beside Symphony before hugging her tightly. The group filtered into the hall before Redheart approached once again, her pale blue eyes searching the small group; Vinyl silently stepped forward, head bowed in quiet reverence.

"Come with me, Scratch, and I'll show you her room."

Chancing a small look back to the musicians, Vinyl offered a sad smile before following behind the nurse, a building dread swirling beneath the surface. The quiet nurse stopped beside an open door and waited, eyes trained on the jockey's face as she looked up, orbs burning with a raw hurt.

"Make sure she wakes up every hour, okay, Scratch? She'll be in some pain, but we've given her pain meds, and Snowheart will be in later to re-administer as necessary. She is okay, though. Just keep an eye out."

Nodding, Vinyl shifted her eyes to peer inside the quiet room, chest constricting at seeing the cellist lying in bed. Taking an unsteady step forward, Vinyl fought down the flowing emotion and slowly closed the distance between them. Dropping into the seat beside the bed, Vinyl swallowed, throat dry. Lifting her hands, she gently clasped the cellist's good hand and squeezed, body rising to sit on the edge of the bed.

Amethyst eyes fluttered at the contact, a soft groan escaping the cracked lips of the cellist. Raven eyebrows drew against the pale forehead, seemingly ignoring the growing bruise on the player's ghost-like skin as it wrinkled above the cloudy orbs.

"Vinyl?"

Nodding, the spinner moved her fingers to gently brush away the messy bangs, the small movement uncovering the dark bruising around the strings player's eye. Curling her lip in disdain, Vinyl dropped her eyes to casually scan the woman, red eyes carefully studying the black sling wrapped around the cellist's bad arm, minimizing movement of the damaged shoulder. Crimson eyes dropped to the hand within her own, eyes sharpening against the purple hand print standing in stark contrast with the cellist's pristine skin.

Casting her eyes to lock on the fluttering lashes of the cellist, Vinyl gently squeezed the woman's hand.

"Yeah, O. It's me. Are you okay?"

The cellist closed her eyes for a moment as she remained reclining, eyebrows drawing even tighter across her forehead.

"Stella-- She's so... My cello..."

Quieting the cellist, Vinyl bit her lip before running her hands through the lightly tangled hair, eyes brimming with a sea of unshed tears as a molten nausea slammed into her, mind latching onto the singular name. Filing the information away, Vinyl cooed gently, hands gently stroking the cellist's good arm.

"Shh, hey, it's okay. You're safe, just rest."

Fighting the sleep attempting to comfort her, Octavia smiled quickly before her eyes closed, face relaxing slightly. Within moments, the fitful player was asleep. Vinyl tilted her eyes upward to look at the clock, counting an hour out before refocusing on the cellist. Absently tracing the woman's hand with her thumb, the vengeful tears slipped free once more as Vinyl shuddered, eyes slamming shut.

"I'm sorry, Octavia."

Vinyl remained in the same place she had been for hours, perched carefully at Octavia's bedside, free hand curled protectively around Octavia's. Viktor Melody entered the room quietly, though the gentle rasp of his breathing revealed he had been running. Turning to regard the distressed man, Vinyl offered a small smile. Approaching the woman's bedside, Viktor meticulously scanned every inch of his daughter, the same amethyst eyes watering as he looked over her damaged shell. Casting a soulful look to the equally upset jockey, Viktor gentle cleared his throat.

"Vinyl, I presume."

"Yes, Mister Melody."

Nodding, he lifted a hand to squeeze the woman's shoulder before he collapsed into the seat beside the bed.

"How is she?"

"Okay, I guess. She spits out random things every time I wake her up, but they told me to expect that with a concussion. She's got two broken ribs and a separated shoulder. That's really all I know."

The man seemed to grow even paler at the news, his dark brown hair almost black in the low light of the room. Nodding to himself, he shifted his eyes back toward the cellist, his larger hands moving to gently squeeze the woman's forearm, careful of the bruises marring the petite wrist.

"How long has she been here?"

"About four or five hours now?"

"Have you been with her the entire time?"

Vinyl closed her eyes, the same unease from earlier returning with fervent resilience.

"Yes, sir."

"How did this happen?"

"I don't really know, sir. But from what I can gather from Octavia when she wakes up, is that Stella Artois has something to do with this."

The man merely nodded, mulberry eyes narrowing dangerously, a grave understanding surfacing on the lined face.

"Is there anything else?"

"Her cello is missing, and the police have yet to locate Artois. They're waiting for Octavia to steady before they take her statement and file a proper report. I have people out looking for Stella as we speak, sir."

"People?"

Vinyl finally lifted her eyes to look directly at the man, the haunted crimson eyes narrowing darkly at the information.

"Spitfire and her Bolts, sir."

Cracking a small grin, the man nodded before fishing his cellphone from his pocket, and dialed a number from memory. Lifting from his seat, he walked toward the corner and spoke quietly, an unnerving edge to the normally calm voice. Returning to his seat, he settled and focused on the slumbering cellist before turning back to Vinyl.

"I spoke to the nurse outside, she tells me that you haven't left this room since you've been inside it."

"I didn't want to leave her alone. I've done that already, and I refuse to do it again."

Tipping her head back, Vinyl stared at the clock before setting her jaw, fiery orbs dropping back to study the resting player. Lifting a steady hand, Vinyl gently shook the cellist, wary of the broken bones on the closer side, resting quietly under a tight binder. Octavia stirred briefly, eyes flickering before opening fully, clouded orbs looking confusedly around the room before settling on the man beside her.

"Daddy..."

"Hello, angel."

Octavia frowned and removed her hand from Vinyl's to rub at the bruise on her forehead, wincing harshly as she jostled her chest area. Resting her head against the pillow, Octavia groaned as Vinyl shook her gently once more.

"C'mon, Tav, gotta be more awake."

"I am."

She trailed off before opening her eyes again and focused on the man. She narrowed her eyes at her father before moving to grip the older man's hand.

"Hi, Daddy."

The man smiled again before standing, only to drop a kiss on the woman's forehead before pulling away.

"Rest easy, pumpkin. How are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts."

"That's to be expected. We'll get through this, angel, don't worry."

"Daddy, my cello..."

Vinyl winced at the words, eyes slipping over to look at the man as he stood, jaw set as he warred with the potent emotion thumping angrily behind his eyes.

"I don't know yet, pumpkin. We'll find it, though."

"I'm very tired, father."

"Sleep, angel. I'll see you in the morning."

Humming, Octavia relaxed against the mattress, fingers gently squeezing her father's hand as she drifted off again.

"Tell Vinyl I love her."

Viktor merely nodded before slowly placing the woman's hand back on the bed, careful to not move too suddenly. Signaling for Vinyl to follow him outside, the two quietly exited the room and stopped just outside the door, regarding each other silently.

"Take good care of my little girl, Vinyl. She's going to need everyone until she gets back on her feet."

Crossing her arms, Vinyl leaned against the wall, eyes watching as her boot absently kicked at the pristine tiles of the hallway. Sighing heavily, Vinyl lifted her focus back to the patiently waiting businessman.

"I wasn't going to leave her side, sir. Not now, not ever. I want to be there for everything, if she'll let me."

He smiled and nodded, the exhaustion in his body now glaringly apparent.

"Thank you. I'll return in a few hours, there are people I'd like to speak to. Good night, Vinyl."

"Good night, Mister Melody."

Vinyl paused in the hall as she watched the tall man exit the building, a white-hot emotion swirling deep within her chest. Pushing up from the wall, she wordlessly entered the room and reclaimed her seat on the bed, fingers curling around Octavia's.

More hours passed as daylight finally bled through the oppressive night, the early morning sun illuminating the stark interior in a painful white. Vinyl sat curled in the chair at the bedside, eyes staring blankly at the cellist as she slept peacefully. A small knock caught her attention, her body twisting to acknowledge the new presence.

Spitfire stood at the door, Soarin and an unfamiliar officer behind both her shoulders. Jerking her head, Spitfire motioned for the jockey to vacate the room, allowing the newly arrived Snowheart and the officer into the room. Soarin smiled brilliantly at the DJ before nodding to the Captain, and slowly receded toward the exit. Vinyl watched briefly before turning her eyes back to the uneasy flyer.

"What is it, Spit?"

"Well. The cops found Stella. And Soarin and I found O's cello."

Vinyl exhaled sharply, eyes turning back toward the room as the officer pulled up a chair to the freshly awake cellist, drawing a blatant irritation from the injured player. The quiet voices of both player and police barely reached the jockey's sensitive ears, adding to the growing discomfort of the situation, red eyes following Snowheart as she checked the cellist.

"Okay, Spit, what? What happened?"

"Stella tried to kill herself last night."

Jerking back at the words, Vinyl snapped her eyes back to the captain.

"She did? So it was her. Octavia mentioned it a few times, but she was still too out of it for anything concrete. Did she do it?"

"Uhm, no. She's upstairs in psych. Sapphire is apparently up there, too."

"When did you find all of this out?"

"About an hour ago? The cops were pretty hush-hush about it. The guy in there came down to see if Octavia could piece together anything for him, so they know how to proceed."

Vinyl tapped her foot, unnerved at the newest revelation. Again she focused on Octavia as she attempted to explain to the Officer as he scribbled in his notepad, pausing every so often for clarification. Vinyl noticed the discomfort cross the cellist's face as she shifted, causing her to tilt toward the room out of reflex. Spitfire's voice drew her back from the reverie, crimson eyes snapping over to refocus on the pilot.

"You mentioned Octavia's cello. Where is it?"

A nervous smile flashed across the pilot's face, only to be replaced by a frosty displeasure.

"That's not really important right now. Oh, Symphony's on her way with clothes for Octavia, permitted they let her leave today."

Snowheart joined the pair in that moment, a small smile ghosting pale lips.

"I think she'll be okay. The initial shock has worn off, and everything seems to be falling into place. The shoulder needs to remain still, and there isn't too much anyone can do for her ribs, but if she's careful, I can see Doc letting her leave today."

A bright ray of sunlight suddenly fell across the floor, drawing the focus of the three women as they stood in the hall. Symphony held the door open for Soarin as he entered the hospital, the familiar black hard case tightly in his grip. Offering a sheepish grin, he held up the case and motioned the women forward as he slid over toward a small cluster of chairs. Vinyl approached slowly, eyes trained on the black case as it was placed easily on one of the wide chairs, silently waiting. Symphony approached the tense group, pale eyebrows knitting tightly on her forehead.

Vinyl reached a hand out for the case but was stopped by the stunt pilot, drawing her focus back to the flame-haired woman as she slowly shook her head.

"Don't, okay? There's no point."

A harsh understanding festered within the jockey, drawing a pained sighed as she studied the case, eyes slipping closed as she imagined the cellist's face upon hearing the news. Symphony slipped in beside her, hand moving to gently grasp the jockey's hand as her head still hung low.

"We can fix--"

Spitfire shook her head before jamming her hands in her pockets, eyes swarming with disappointment. Symphony squeezed closed her own eyes before tugging on Vinyl, bringing her back toward Octavia's room. The officer met them at the threshold and tipped his hat before passing the pair and headed toward the door. Symphony entered the room a moment later and approached the emotionally drawn cellist. Setting the bag on the chair, Symphony sat on the edge of the bed and softly pushed away the bangs from the stress-lined forehead.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"Hello, Symphony."

"How are you feeling?"

Pausing a moment, Octavia lifted her arm, grimacing at the shooting pain from her sides at the movement, before her eyes dropped to scan the black sling pressed tightly to her chest. Wincing, Octavia closed her eyes and offered a shallow sigh.

"It hurts to breathe, it hurts to smile... Everything hurts."

"Snow tells us you might get to go home today, provided you're stable enough."

Nodding, Octavia passed her eyes to the jockey leaning against the door frame, crimson eyes alight with unknown emotion. Walking forward, Vinyl smiled down at the cellist.

"Hey, Tav."

"You stayed with me, I remember."

Grinning, Vinyl bobbed her head.

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away."

"Thank you."

A deep voice from the doorway drew the attention of the players, the older doctor stepping meaningfully into the room.

"Good morning, ladies. If you'd excuse us?"

Symphony and Vinyl nodded in understanding before filing out the door, allowing the man to talk with the cellist.

"Good morning. How are you doing?"

"Things hurt so much, Doctor. Breathing, speaking, even just sitting here."

"Yes, Miss, that's to be expected. You were mildly concussed, two of your ribs were broken, and your shoulder separated. The bruising on your wrist and stomach is merely cosmetic, and the ache should dissipate in a few days. Is there anything else you can recall?"

"No, nothing pain related. An officer was here just a few moments ago, and took my statement about the incident."

"So you recall what happened?"

Suppressing a shudder, Octavia nodded slowly.

"Most of it, yes. I remember her knee connecting with my side... I remember feeling the pain in my shoulder, and then I must have blacked out... I don't really remember much else, just... pieces and fragments."

"Okay, Miss, very good. I'd like to ask you some question, check your memory."

Octavia nodded, ignoring the pain in her shoulder at the subtle movement.

"Name?"

"Octavia Melody."

The doctor cycled through a few more questions, pleased when the cellist answered concisely and immediately. Smiling, he jerked his head toward the door and the two women leaning against the wall across the hall, lost in conversation.

"And who is the woman on the left?"

"Symphony Strings."

"And the one on the right?"

Octavia's smile widened as she watched the spinner, striking concern etched beautifully across the pale face.

"Why, that's Vinyl Scratch."

The man chuckled and scribbled another note before standing, drawing himself up to his full height.

"Yes, Miss Melody, I'm very pleased at your progress. If all goes well, you should be released soon. Best of luck."

Taking his exit, the man gestured to the two women before heading off down the hall. Symphony quickly reentered the room and sat on the bed beside her friend, teal eyes swimming with concern.

"How are you, Octavia?"

"Better. Still in pain."

"You were a mess last night. What happened?"

"Stella happened. Details are still fuzzy, but she told me she loved me, and then attacked me."

From her position by the door, Vinyl frowned, red eyes staring, unfocused, out the window. Symphony tossed a concerned look over her shoulder before slipping her attention back to the cellist. Octavia studied Vinyl for a moment, a nagging concern pooling in the back of her mind as she watched the woman. Zeroing in on Symphony, the cellist gently squeezed the fingers between her own.

"Symphony, could you please fetch Spitfire? I'd like to ask her something."

Surprised at the request, the woman nodded before standing and headed out the door. Vinyl hesitated before walking forward, taking up the space on the bed Symphony had just vacated. Grinning at the cellist, Vinyl cautiously slid the backs of her fingers down the cellist's exposed forearm.

"I'm glad you're okay, Tav."

"I was terrified. I think Stella stole my cello, Vinyl."

A flash of guilt crossed the woman's face at the admission, the subtle change not unnoticed by the cellist.

"You... know something. Where's my cello?"

Sighing, Vinyl curled her fingers around Octavia's forearm, above the bruised hand print and squeezed soothingly.

"Don't wor--"

"Vinyl."

Locking eyes with the cellist, Vinyl momentarily focused on the bruising above the woman's eye, a tight frown curling her lips.

"She destroyed it, Tav. Spitfire didn't have the heart to show me."

Biting back a small sob, Octavia curled her fingers into the jockey's forearm, amethyst eyes glazing over in agony as the tears silently fell.

"No. Please, tell me that's a cruel joke."

"No... no joke. I'm so sorry, Octavia."

"She couldn't... how could she?"

Vinyl clicked her tongue and shifted forward, hands moving to soothe the inflamed skin of the player's tear-streaked face. Leaning her forehead against Octavia's, Vinyl closed her eyes in a silent offering of support.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I wish I could fix this."

Releasing a shuddering gasp, Octavia lifted her arm to curl around her aching ribs, face contorting with pain.

"Stella Artois is the bane of my existence!!"

Gasping against the increasing pressure on her chest, Octavia leaned back against the bed to reduce the agony, eyes falling closed as she settled her erratic breathing. Vinyl soothed the cellist, hands lightly running across the uninjured parts of the woman as her voice mumbled niceties to the player.

"I didn't want to tell you like this..."

"N-no. I needed... my poor. Goodness, why break it?"

"To get one final dig in at you before she--"

Vinyl snapped her lips closed in that instant, red eyes falling to study the white sheets. Octavia pried her eyes open to study the woman, the stillness dulling the pain in her chest, allowing her to look hard at the woman.

"Before she what? What else happened?"

Locking eyes with the distraught woman, Vinyl swallowed her discomfort.

"Stella tried to kill herself last night."

Octavia slipped her eyes closed at that, a low grunt escaping the parted lips.

"I assume she didn't succeed?"

"No."

A soft, disarming knock sounded at the door frame, two pairs of eyes snapping to look at the arrival. A disheveled and silently crying Sapphire Shores stood at the door frame, trademark eye make-up running down the haunted visage of the singer. Vinyl forced up from the bed but was stopped by the cellist gripping two of her fingers, instantly calming the intensity burning in the crimson eyes. Wordlessly the woman staggered forward, honey eyes watching the cellist intently. Collapsing into the chair beside the cellist, Sapphire inhaled a shuddering breath before shaking her head, blue hair falling to conceal the devastated look.

"I-I'm so sorry for Stella, Octavia. I never meant to let her out of my sight. I knew what she wanted to do to you and I'm sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. She left last night, and I didn't realize... Oh, Octavia... I never meant for this to happen. I hope you can forgive her. She didn't handle anything well... she's so sensitive... I wish I could have protected her better."

Octavia squeezed the two fingers still in her grasp, eyes never leaving the harrowing form of the once glorious singer.

"I don't know what you're doing here, Sapphire... but it really is no concern of my own. She attacked me and destroyed my instrument... there is no excuse for that."

Lifting her bloodshot eyes, Sapphire bit her lip in consternation.

"I'm sorry, Octavia. I love her, and I was asked to leave the ward for a bit, because I was upsetting her more. I heard you were awake, I wanted to... to come see you... I wanted you to know that she is sorry."

Mulberry eyes narrowed suddenly, a searing pain pulsing behind her orbs as another headache started to form.

"The ward... Stella is here? In this hospital?"

Sapphire merely nodded before falling into more fitful tears. Spitfire and Symphony entered a moment later, the former quickly collecting the crying singer and ushered her quietly out the door. Symphony curled into the chair and studied the frowning cellist. Redheart knocked softly at the door, an array of supplies in her hands.

"Medicine time. Doc is giving you a 3:30 release."

Octavia nodded and watched as the nurse loaded her IV, thankful for more painkillers, the stress from the previous meeting causing her undue misery. Vinyl and Symphony watched quietly, taking in the oddly comforting sight of the nurse attending the quiet cellist. Redheart excused herself seconds later, offering her support should she be needed in the remaining hours. Spitfire entered as Red left, brown eyes focused on the cellist.

"Hey, cello lady. What'd you need?"

Shaking free the swirling thoughts, Octavia offered a sad grin to the pilot.

"Do you have your car?"

Viktor stepped out of the back of the town car, a brightly colored bouquet clasped gently in his hand. Closing the door behind him, he motioned for the driver to park before stepping into the quiet commotion of the hospital. Quickly approaching his daughter's room, he deftly stepped inside, face lighting upon seeing the cellist sitting up. Grinning, he offered the flowers to the woman before bending to drop a quick kiss to the top of her head.

"Hello, darling. How are you doing?"

"Better, thank you. I'm going to be released soon."

"Yes, I heard. I'm very glad to hear."

The man smiled at Symphony as she entered, Vinyl and Spitfire in check behind her. Nodding to the man, the spinner shook his hand.

"Good to see you again, Mister Melody."

"Likewise. And Spitfire, what a pleasure."

The pilot shook his hand before walking around the bed to settle on the window sill. Redheart entered quickly, taking a few notes, before exiting once more. Symphony placed the black travel bag down on the edge of the bed and smiled up at the cellist, teal eyes sparkling.

"Since you're not a hot mess anymore, I figured we'd get you dressed and ready to go. It's almost time, after all."

Frowning, the cellist absently picked at the hem of her blanket, eyebrows drawing in thought. Viktor leaned forward, hand coming to rest thoughtfully on the woman's leg.

"What is it, dear?"

Lifting her eyes to match her father's, Octavia's frown deepened.

"I can't sign myself out of the hospital with my arm in this sling. Even the slightest movement causes me pain. And playing my cello... Oh, daddy, my cello's been destroyed."

"Your cello, darling?"

Fighting the tears that crashed through her resolve, Octavia roughly cleared her throat, drawing a painful sneer as a jolt rocked her battered ribs.

"Stella destroyed it. I have to request another cello, and that could take... I don't even know. I don't even know when I can play again, the healing time for a shoulder injury like this varies."

Vinyl slid in beside the increasingly distraught man, bending at the hip to gently rub the cellist's good shoulder.

"One thing at a time, kid. Don't think about it, okay? We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Octavia simply nodded before leaning backward, warring roughly with the splitting turmoil crashing through her psyche. Both Red and Snowheart walked back into the room, the latter leaving a wheelchair before quickly leaving the room. Redheart approached the cellist and smiled, looking down with a quiet appreciation.

"Doc says you should be free to go, after I go over your discharge instructions and all the other information you need, okay?"

Octavia nodded and forced herself to sit up slightly, ignoring the crushing pain in her side. Instead she focused on Redheart as she explained, eyes occasionally skipping over to watch Vinyl and Symphony pack up the few things left over in the room. Drawing her attention back to the patiently waiting nurse, Octavia nodded before being cleared. Redheart left the proper paperwork and equipment before bidding a farewell and deftly left the room. Octavia tossed the blankets from her legs as her father moved the chair back before stepping up to her side. Battling the breath-stealing pain, Octavia hefted to her feet, swaying gently before settling. Slipping her eyes over to regard Symphony, the raven-haired player smiled reassuringly to the woman.

"Symphony, if you'd be so kind?"

Nodding quietly, the woman grabbed the black travel bag and tossed it on the bed behind Octavia. Sensing a quiet need, Viktor excused himself to the hallway, followed closely by Vinyl and Spitfire. Symphony pivoted to stand before the cellist, bright eyes softening.

"So do I get the honor of ripping that hospital gown off you?"

Octavia smiled and nodded.

Vinyl paced outside the door, blue brows bunched painfully on the stress-twisted forehead. Spitfire reached a hand out to grab the jockey's shirt before pulling her to lean against the wall, silently urging the woman to settle. A few moments passed before the strings pair emerged, leaving Octavia dressed well, a borrowed pea coat tucked around her shoulders. Smiling at the waiting trio, the cellist bowed her head at the group.

"I have only one request."

Vinyl stepped forward, hands reaching up to smooth the rumpled lapels of her pea coat as it hung carefully around the cellist, quiet garnet searching emotional amethyst.

"What is it?"

"I wish to see Stella Artois."

Vinyl jerked back at the small request, face falling into deadly irritation before she could stop it.

"What the hell do you want to--"

"Please."

Symphony huffed and stepped beside Vinyl, her own face twisted in annoyance.

"Octavia, there's no need to see her. Let her rot in peace."

Viktor, too, shared a similar look, his dark eyes haunted. Spitfire merely shrugged and stepped forward, chin jerking in the direction of the cellist.

"I'll take you up, O."

Three pairs of eyes instantly torched the pilot, causing her to smile ruefully. Vinyl grunted and shook her head, hands lifting to bury inside the pockets of a well-worn pair of jeans.

"No, I'll take her."

Octavia smiled briefly, turning her body toward the elevators to take her up. Vinyl fell in step beside her, eyes glancing backward to settle hotly on the pilot, ignoring the small grin that greeted her. Turning ahead, Vinyl sighed and bumped her elbow into the elevator button before studying the quiet cellist, concerned at the pain wrinkle on the woman's forehead. The doors opened, admitting the pair into the steely car before starting upward, waiting patiently for the doors to open.

Stepping out into a pristine hall, Octavia hesitated, causing Vinyl to gently lead her toward the desk up the hall, allowing her a moment to wrap a protective arm around the cellist. Stopping at the station, Octavia peered thoughtfully down at the kind nurse.

"Stella Artois, please."

Scanning the computer for a moment, the nurse nodded and gestured further down the hall.

"306, ma'am. We ask that you don't stay long."

Responding numbly, Octavia bobbed her head and started down the hall, the twinges of each step causing a dull pulse to course through her as she moved. Vinyl was silently beside her, red eyes hard with emotion. Stopping beside the cracked door, Octavia turned to look over her companion.

"I won't be long, of course."

Understanding, Vinyl stepped back to lean against the wall, focus shifting to stare blankly outward. Licking her lips, Octavia slowly toed open the door and stepped inside, pausing to close the door with her hip, eyes never leaving the rumpled form of Sapphire Shores as she sat, hunched over the side of the bed. Stella lay in the middle of the bed, blue eyes unfocused as she stared at the ceiling, twin, thick bandages wrapped around both her forearms.

Sapphire turned to regard the cellist, amber eyes dark and bloodshot with barely repressed distress.

"Octavia."

The unearthly voice of the cellist caught Octavia by surprise, the mulberry eyes jumping up to land soundly on the redhead. Blue eyes turned with agonizing slowness, the dead eyes finally latching painfully onto the player. Scoffing, Stella continued to stare, eyebrows drawing in anger.

"What are you doing here."

"I heard what you did. To yourself. To me. To my cello. Something brought me up here."

"Heh. For pity?"

Octavia shook her head, mouth twisting into a small scowl at the pain in her shoulder. Ignoring the oddly familiar tenderness, Octavia chanced a step forward.

"To understand. Why did you do it? Why couldn't you just let this go?"

"Because no one can ever just let you go. You've got an odd knack for getting under people's skin, just ask Scratch. I wish I had killed you."

Octavia paused mid-stride, horrified at the revelation. Straightening, the cellist shook her head, mulberry eyes betraying her emotion.

"I will never understand you or what you did, Stella. But I do know that I feel sorry for you."

"You made me like this, Octavia. You destroyed my career. So I thought I'd destroy yours. You broke my heart, so I worked to break yours. You're only worth having if you're invested in something else. I never realized that, not until I saw you with her."

"You kissed me."

Stella laughed humorlessly, the ice blue eyes falling closed as she tugged at the binding on her wrists.

"You're lucky that's all I did. I can't tell which of you is sweeter... you or Scratch."

Snapping her head up at the tiny voice, Octavia frowned, her resolve strengthening as she stepped closer to the bed.

"I'm sorry I removed you from the spotlight, but not sorry that I removed you from my Orchestra. You're dangerous, you're not well. I wanted to befriend you, but you attacked me for years. What was I supposed to do?"

The fiery eyes of the cellist finally softened, the blue orbs watering slightly as the redhead began to quietly cry. Never tearing her eyes from Octavia, Stella pulled her lips into a bemused grin.

"You were supposed to be my friend, regardless. You never noticed me, you know. Never once. All of those years, all of that time spent, and you never even gave me a second thought. I did everything you ever wanted, stayed late on nights the section struggled, helped you progress, knowing of your passion for the instrument... I would have given anything to be your number one."

An inner tightness threatened to ground the cellist, the bitter words echoing painfully within her chest. Ignoring the tears that fell, Octavia struggled with her words, lips cracking as she attempted to speak.

"I'm sorry, Stella. Truly. I didn't know, though I wish I had. But I cannot forgive the things that you have done. And my cello... I wish you well, but if there is ever any idea of you contacting me in the future... remove it from your thoughts as we speak. I will not deal with this any longer."

"Get out."

Swallowing her pride, Octavia nodded and turned, pausing at the door to cast a final look back at the redhead. Shaking her head, Octavia twisted and pulled, sliding roughly into the hallway before pulling the door shut. Pinning Vinyl with a tearful gaze, the player walked wordlessly forward, ignoring the streams that still marred her paling flesh. Vinyl easily matched strides with the cellist as they approached the elevators, stopping briefly as they awaited the car. Once inside, Vinyl tossed a concerned smile to the player.

"You okay, Tav?"

"Yes. Vinyl?"

Humming in response, Vinyl turned toward the woman as she casually leaned against the stainless steel wall. Locking eyes with the DJ, Octavia smirked, a certain melancholy clinging noticeably to the shorter woman as she studied the two-tone pianist. Braving a step forward, Octavia gently lifted her hand to tangle in the spinner's shirt before stepping into the DJ, their lips meeting in a long, desperate kiss. Pulling away just before the doors opened, Octavia flashed an unsteady smile to the DJ before stepping out of the elevator and made short work of meeting with the patient group by the doors.

Viktor looked up and smiled at his daughter, breaking free from the women to greet the musician.

"Hello, darling. Martin has the car right outside, whenever you're ready."

Vinyl stepped forward, smiling gently at the older man.

"Actually, I was going to take Octavia home with me."

Two sets of mulberry eyes looked over the pianist, pulling a sweet grin from the player. Octavia smiled ruefully, eyes falling closed as she subtly leaned into the offered warmth.

"I'm afraid I can't ride on the back of your motorcycle, Vinyl."

Spitfire and Vinyl simultaneously tossed their respective keys, each catching the proffered pair with practiced efficiency. Holding up the keys to the sports car, Vinyl smiled, unsure of her offer. Octavia affirmed, nodding her head gratefully. Symphony jerked forward, gently enveloping the cellist in a warm embrace.

"Be careful with yourself, okay?"

Nodding, Octavia detangled from the violinist before turning kind eyes to her father.

"Thank you, daddy, but--"

"It's okay, angel. I know Vinyl will take good care of you."

Pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, he smiled before taking his leave. Spitfire curled a possessive arm around the violinist before pinning the other pair with a tired smile.

"I promise not to fuck your bike up, if you promise not to wrap my car around any telephone poles."

"Deal."

Octavia exited the hospital first, pausing only to inhale as deeply as she dared, thankful for the cool breeze that ruffled the long, black tresses. Vinyl stilled at her side, patiently waiting for the woman before Octavia called out to Spitfire. Obediently returning to the cellist's side, the pilot waited curiously, eyebrows high in expectation.

"Spitfire, where is my cello?"

Flushing, the woman ran an unsteady hand through her hair.

"Oh, uh, see--"

"I know it was been destroyed, but... I still wish to see it."

Symphony ran a sympathetic hand down the cellist's arm before exhaling slowly.

"Your cello's in my apartment. Would you like for us to drop it off at Vinyl's?"

"Yes, please."

Symphony bobbed her head in affirmation before breaking toward the motorcycle, leaving Vinyl and Octavia standing motionless outside the emergency room doors. Finally, Octavia stepped forward, leading Vinyl toward the glistening blue sports car. Curling around the cellist, Vinyl opened the door and waited patiently for the woman to settle before skirting around the hood of the car and slid in behind the wheel. Tossing the cellist's bag into the backseat, Vinyl slipped the key into the ignition, grinning automatically as the car kicked over with a vibrating rumble. Pulling out of the spot, the jockey stopped as her bike came rolling up beside her window.

Leaning down, Spitfire grinned at both women.

"I think I look hotter behind the wheel than you do, loser."

"I look sexier on my bike, dork."

"I'll bring the case by after I drop off the dead weight, deal?"

"Deal."

Octavia silently watched the white motorcycle glide seamlessly in front of them before turning and darting off down the street. Leaning back against the soft leather, Octavia smiled, eyes drifting lazily over to study the focused DJ.

"You do look better on that bike."

Vinyl smirked, content.

Vinyl pushed open the door to her apartment, the cellist's bag slung casually over her shoulder. Stepping aside, she allowed the woman to walk gingerly into the apartment, face strained. Melting into the arm chair, the raven-haired player sighed softly, ignoring the pricks of distress flowing over her upper body. Closing her eyes, Octavia focused on the sound of the DJ as she moved around the apartment before searching through the borrowed satchel. Hearing the distinct sound of pills tumbling in their bottle, Octavia grinned, straining to hear as the DJ opened the fridge to pull something out before slamming it closed. Feeling the echo of the woman's footsteps, she grinned before looking up at the jockey stopped right beside her.

Offering the pills and bottle of water to the cellist, Vinyl smiled reassuringly.

"I know you're in pain, just take the pills, okay?"

Nodding, Octavia plucked the pills from the jockey's palm and popped them in her mouth before taking a drink, tossing her head back and grimacing as the large pills slid down her throat. Scrunching her face in annoyance, Octavia offered the open bottle to the DJ and watched with interest as she twisted the cap back on the bottle. Taking a seat on the couch beside the dark-haired musician and her chair, Vinyl leaned against the arm and studied the quiet player.

Feeling the weight of the intrigued pianist's scrutiny, Octavia smiled before briefly focusing her orbs on the spinner, her curious gaze scanning the eccentric apartment with renewed fervor. Finally noticing the black piano tucked in the corner, Octavia sucked in a shallow breath before pivoting her head around to look fondly at her friend.

"The cover... it's a piano."

"Yeah. I've been writing a lot recently. It hasn't been covered in almost a month."

Fingers ambling gently across the soft cloth of her pants, Octavia chanced a glance up, eyes locking instantly with the swelling red eyes.

"Play for me?"

Licking her lips, Vinyl smiled and stood, offering her hands in assisting the cellist to stand. Leading her over toward the piano, Vinyl casually took her seat and waited patiently for the player to settle comfortably. Lifting her hands, the jockey gentle tickled the keys, mouth twisting in thought.

"Any requests?"

Sighing, Octavia leaned against the player's shoulder, careful of her damaged side, and nestled in beside her companion.

"Something smooth. And low."

Vinyl paused for a moment before beginning a wistful tune, eyes fluttering closed as the words tumbled free.

"Stay low. Soft, dark, and dreamless. Far beneath my nightmares and loneliness. I hate me, for breathing without you. I don't want to feel anymore for you."

Vinyl glanced over at the cellist and smiled as she continued.

"Grieving for you. I'm not grieving for you. Nothing real love can't undo. And though I may have lost my way, all paths lead straight to you. I long to be like you--"

A sharp knock at the door caused the jockey's mouth to snap shut before beginning another verse, eyebrows drawing as she stared at the offending object. Grinning, she gently pulled away from the cellist and stood.

"It's probably Spit."

Turning the handle, Vinyl opened the door and froze, body instantly tensing.

"Cash."

Author's Notes:

I have the worst pain in my neck. There's a disc and it's bulging. Let me just tell you how much that hurts when you're hunched over a laptop and typing away like a creep. BUNCHES. BUT: Thank you all for your continued support. This chapter really didn't turn out as planned, but a part of me still appreciates it somehow. Happy Saturday!