And We're All Falling

Poor, Poor Maine

"Morning Maine!"

        South's voice floated through the room as she practically danced over to the windows. It'd been two weeks since the initial accident and Maine had since then woken up. Of course, he couldn't say anything, but he was studying some basic sign language when he had the energy (not to mention patience). 

        South also spent 99% of her free time studying sign language. It'd gotten a bit annoying (No, South, none of the nurses know what that means) and at times, offensive (that's not actually sign language and it's also rude). Considering it was the first time since college that she'd actually studied anything, North put up with it and made everyone else put up with it too.

"So! How are you this morning?" she asked cheerfully, sitting beside his bed.

'Ok,' he signed in reply.

"Good! Well, CT allowed me to have partial custody of Omicron while you're in here as long as I send her updates every time I get home..."

        While South chatted away, Maine smiled slightly. It didn't hurt to make facial expressions as much as it did when he first woke up, and it seemed to be his best way of communication. 

Communication.

        His girlfriend's chatter was typical, but now that he couldn't reply with advice or calming words, it was frustrating. The others teased him (when South wasn't around, of course) that he never had much to say anyway, so what was the difference now? 

        They meant well and he knew that. But it still stung. Was it karma? Oh, you hardly use your vocal cords? Why don't we just partially rip them out and render them useless forever, hm? 

"Anyway...Carolina and York are finally going to dinner together tonight. The whole Carolina-Passing-Out-In-York's-Arms scenario changed the both of them for the better, I think. They actually put up with each other now. On the other hand..."

        Carolina. She'd given him some of her blood. When he first heard the information, he was a bit shocked and well, rather freaked out. But when Dr. Free said that it had saved him, he got over the scare pretty quickly. South would've been devastated without him and he knew it. Flickers of her voice whispering in his ear while they were operating still plauged his thoughts. He never knew how much she really loved him.

"Okay, well I better get on the clock before Lindsay and Meg drag me down there again," she finished, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Love you. Feel better soon."

        He smiled and gave her a weak heart shape with his hands. It made her pause and keep her gaze locked on his hands. A choked back sob came out of her before she rushed out of the room. He wanted to call after her, but, well, he couldn't. He thought South would be better now that he was alive and awake.

Or was she broken because of his driving mistake?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why are you here?!"

"The nice lady at the door let me in. And ouch, way to greet a friend."

"LYLLA!"

"I LET HIM IN BECAUSE HE ASKED NICELY!"

"SO YOU'D LET A SERIAL KILLER IN IF THEY ASKED NICELY?!"

"NO!"

"THEN WHY IS HE DIFFERENT?!"

"I'M GOING TO LUNCH!"

        Della threw a pen at the wall and watched as it broke. Wash's eyes widened and he stepped toward her desk, grabbing the cup full of pens. Narrowing her eyes, she turned her glare on him.