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"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.
"My legs," she choked out. "They don't... they're not working. I can't lift them."
His heart began to pound in his chest, and he whipped out his phone. "I'm calling 911 right now."
"No!" She shook her head wildly. "No. This isn't the first time I've had this. It's happened before. It's not an emergency."
"What do you mean it's happened before?" he asked, stunned. "You've not been able to walk, you mean?"
"Well, that's one thing. It all started to happen around the time of the fire, and then with the guys at the mall..."
"Woah, wait. Back up. Start at the beginning."
Holly's shoulders slumped. "I've had some weird things happen. Like double vision, and my eyes get so tired they look droopy. And there's been a few times where my legs just don't... work."
She sniffed, and brushed her tears away with her fingers. "When those guys messed with me at the mall, I couldn't lift my arms to drive. That's why I was late coming to get you. It happened with my legs at one of the games. I couldn't go up the stairs to the concourse. And then when we were at Regal, I..." she sighed. "It's stupid, but I was exhausted from chewing. My food took forever to go down."
"Jesus Christ, Holly." He stared down at her, horrified. She'd been dealing with all of this by herself and hadn't said a word to him. "Why the hell didn't you tell me any of this?"
"Because I thought it was stress. But when it happened during the game, I started to think that maybe it wasn't stress. I just didn't want to deal with it. I don't know."
"Well, you're going to deal with it now. You've got to find out what's going on. Enough is enough. You have to see a doctor."
"I know. I just thought it might go away when the stress went away, you know?"
"But it hasn't."
She shook her head. "No. But it does stop after I rest for a bit. Then I'm fine. I've waited it out before. Let me try one more time."
She stood, and when she turned and tried to take a step, the look on her face gave it all away.
She couldn't do it.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, shaking her head.
"Baby, don't," he murmured, pulling her close. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. We'll get this figured out, okay? But I need to carry you up the stairs."
"No! I told you, we can just wait it out."
"No, we can't. It's boiling in this stairwell, in case you haven't noticed." He attempted a grin, even though he was scared as hell at what was happening. He wanted to put her at ease, and that was priority number one. "And no matter how much of a gentleman I am, I'm not getting back in that death trap of an elevator. Not even for you."
She choked out a laugh as he tucked a lock of purple hair behind her ear. "Come on. I've always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress. And you don't weigh more than a feather."
"This is mortifying," she muttered.
"Hush." He swept her up into his arms and began to climb the stairs. "See? Easy peasy."
"It's four flights, Eli."
"I'm in peak condition," he said dismissively. "Stop worrying. Just be glad you have a big, strapping hockey player to carry you around."
She pressed her face into the side of his neck, and he relaxed when she let out another little laugh. "Okay. I'll try."
Once they reached the top, he ignored her protests and carried her over to the car.
"There. Front door service." He set her down gently, then took her hands. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"
That's when he saw the tears flowing down her face again, and he lost it. He hugged her fiercely and kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry, baby. We're going to get this all figured out. I've got you, Wilkes. I promise."
