He carried her all the way back to her room. She blushed when someone got on the elevator with them, sure of what they must be thinking. She tried to convince him that she was fine and could walk, but he wasn't hearing it. Oh well, she thought, it really isn't so bad having him carry me again.

Once in the room, he laid her gently on the bed, slipped off her shoes, then went to wash his hands. There was a knock at the door, which Devin answered. It was the other medical volunteer, Steve, delivering Devin's medical bag which he had gone to fetch. The two men conversed in the hallway for a minute. Carrie couldn't hear what they were saying. Stepping back in and closing the door, Devin added, "Thanks, Steve. I'll call you if I need you."

Carrie sat up in the bed. "Devin, I… I really appreciate your concern for me, but really, all of this isn't necessary. I'll be fine. I'm feeling better already. I really think I just need to rest."

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently guided her back down to the pillow. He regarded her with a look that said he was slightly amused by her stubbornness, but also that he wasn't going to give in. "Carrie," he said, "either you let me check you out, or you go to the hospital and let a stranger do it."

She gritted her teeth. Normally she would never allow someone to tell her what she was going to do. If this were anyone else, she would have let them have an earful. But for some reason, with Devin, she felt… powerless.

"Fine," she sighed. "But I'm telling you, I'm fine."

"Then you shouldn't mind proving it to me."

She smiled and nodded in defeat as he pulled a desk chair to the side of the bed and sat down.

"Look at me," he said. He had pulled a small flashlight from his bag, which he now shone in each of her eyes. She grimaced and squinted slightly. "Does the light bother you?" he asked as he put the flashlight away.

She nodded.

"Sorry." He patted her hand. "What else is going on besides the headache?"

"Nothing," she said. "It's just the headache."

"But it didn't just start downstairs from the music," he said.

"No," she admitted. "I've had it since I woke up this morning."

"Describe it to me," he said. "Where it hurts and what it feels like."

She gave him the best description she could, explaining that her head hurt all over but especially across her forehead and eyes. She told him it had been a minor, dull pain in the morning, but hadn't gotten progressively more blinding throughout the day, in spite of medication. It really had been made worse by the music at the reunion party, and no longer hurt quite as much, but it was still fairly severe.

"Okay," he said as he pulled his stethoscope from his bag. He placed the earpieces in his ears, and listened to as much of her chest as the cut of her dress would allow, followed by the arteries in her neck. She hoped he wouldn't notice her heart speeding up as his hand came so close to touching her breasts. He didn't seem to, or at least he didn't say anything, which was more likely and just like when they were kids. He had always been sweet and kind to her, but never let on that he knew about her crush.