When she wakes up and he's moving, she doesn't think much of it at first, even if she really wants to wake up enough to tell him to take his cane if he's going anywhere. But somewhere just before she gathers enough energy to actually manage words, she falls back asleep. She's been staying with him a lot or he's been staying with her and sometimes she wonders if it's weird to be spending so many nights with someone she hasn't actually slept with yet, but mostly it's just nice. It's easy falling asleep with him there, surprisingly so, because she's actually done it so rarely. She's used to sleeping by herself and she always thought she'd prefer it, but it turns out she's wrong about yet one more thing when it comes to being in a relationship with him.

The second time she wakes up, she's not sure how much time has passed, but she's aware that he hasn't come back yet and that there's light spilling out of the bathroom and into the hall. Blinking, she rubs her eyes, then pushes back the blankets, because he's probably fine, but there's the other part of her brain that's trying to convince her he fell on his broken leg and smashed his head on something and is lying in a pool of blood. That's the part of her brain that's not going to let her get back to sleep until she checks, no matter how much it annoys him, so she gets out of bed and wanders toward the bathroom.

"Newt?" she calls, voice soft. She raps her knuckles against the door frame before peering around the corner, mostly glad to see he's not lying on the floor. But he is bleeding and her eyebrows draw together as she looks at him. She's not quite awake and can't make sense of what's happening, but she can see all the blood. "What happened?"