pxsthumus:

Her tired but anxious eyes glanced through her hair
as she listened closely to the doctors words. She
was right, logically. There was no way that Ellie could
have stopped her fathers car from hitting that patch 
of ice. But her mind wanted to tell her differently. 

         Nodding without a word, she pushed her hair from her
         face, smearing a bit of blood along with it. To let the
         doctor get a better look at the gash on her forehead
         from the glass. Suddenly a wave of nausea over came 
         the little girl. “I feel sick.” She spoke as the room around
         her grew wobbly and in a haze.

“Alright. Okay, honey, don’t  worry.  Breathe,” Teddy  said,
her  voice  betraying  none  of  her qualms. It  was  with  a
trained  calm  that  she  spoke  to   Ellis   next,   trying   to
engender  some  trust:  “I  think  you  have  a  concussion.
Let’s  get  you  in  this  chair, okay? I’ll patch up that nasty
cut  of  yours  later,  but for now we’ll be heading up to CT.
I do believe you’ve spent a lot of time on the Neuro floor.”

        Maybe  a  familiar  place  would  help to  ease the worry on
        the Ellis’ mind. Teddy always found  that her breaths came
        easier when she was in a place she could  call  home;  but
        for her, Henry’s arms were the only  place  she’d  ever  felt
        safe. Smiling sympathetically,  she  made  to  comfort  the
        little  girl.  “I  know  you’re  worried, Ellis. Tell you what —
        after your CT, I’ll get you an update on your mom and dad.
        How does that sound?”