At first there’s silence. Then there’s a ringing, and boy does it get loud.

Instinctively, Mitch reached for the back of his head while the rest of his body assumed the fetal position. As far as he could tell, he was on the floor. When his vision returned the lights were blinding, but he lacked the coordination to shield his eyes.

Voices began to cut through the ringing, and things like ambulance, get back, and holy shit were uttered over and over again.

“I’m OK,” Mitch groaned. “I’m sorry, I’m OK.”

“Yeah dude?” A recognizable voice came from somewhere above him. “It’s Jodie. You with me, Mitch?”

“Hey Jodie.” He glanced upwards, and could vaguely make out the familiar purple of her hair. “I’m OK, really.”

“Don’t move,” Jodie warned. “You took a big spill from the top rope. Ambulance is on its way, we’re gonna get you out of here.”

It wasn’t until he was lifted onto the stretcher that Mitch felt anything, but once the EMTs shifted him from his position on the floor, his neck and shoulders were in searing pain. His head throbbed.

His vision went dark again.

Unsurprisingly, he tested positive for a mild concussion, and Mitch handled the news as well as anyone could. But then he was told that he had a torn rotator cuff, and that was a little more difficult to remain upbeat about. It wasn’t so severe that it required surgery, but he’d need to take a few weeks off from physical activity. He became acutely aware of just how undressed he was when a nurse outfitted him for a sling, and they mentioned that he’d need to possibly make some adjustments with it once he had access to a shirt.

Enough time had lapsed that he could finally walk around on his own. He met up with Jodie in the waiting room, and before he said anything, she placed a grey hoodie over his bare shoulders and handed him a wad of bills. Guilt gnawed at him for taking her away from the show, since he was the reason that she was away from it during a live taping.

“Jodie, you don’t have to-” Mitch began to protest as he looked over the money, but Jodie rolled her eyes and forced it into his hand.

“It probably won’t cover the entire co-pay, but,” she shrugged. “Everyone pooled together. Just take it.”

“Alright,” Mitch conceded, despite the nagging concerns. He knew damn well that the money was hers; if he called her out, her stubbornness would cause her to throw up further walls.

“That spill was gnarly,” Jodie talked as they made their way over to check-out. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to get back home tonight. It’s a long ride, and the Tri-State crew already took off.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Mitch’s eyebrows knit.

“Crash at my place?” offered Jodie. He openly grimaced at the idea, which caused her to bristle. “OK well, for starters, it’s after midnight. Greenwich is several hours away.” She counted on her fingers as she listed points. “You can’t drive like this, and if you could, your car’s held together with shit like duct tape, hopes, and prayers.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Mitch agreed with a half-hearted laugh, which was short lived. His face fell as realization settled in for other matters that he needed to address. “Fuck, I gotta call Calvin. FUCK, Jodie, where’s my-“

“Dude, chill. Here.” His backpack was presented, which he hastily unzipped and proceeded to rifle through it. Its contents were tossed haphazardly onto the floor, until he reached his phone. She frowned at him and started to collect the scattered items. “You think he’s gonna be up?”

“Don’t know.” Mitch stared at the screen, his thumb hoovering over the contact info. “Shit, I don’t want to wake him if he isn’t.”

“OK, but you almost…man, I don’t want to say ‘died’, but-” Jodie gestured as she trailed off. “You coulda been hurt real bad, y’know. Your significant other should probably know about that.”

Frowning, Mitch lowered his phone to his side. “I’ll wait until I’m outside.”