selfhelp | [IC] Appointments Post

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[action],
[voice]

[IC] Appointments Post

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hm. Maybe it does. I'll ask.

[She thinks she found him easy things to eat: toast and a sliced apple and some left-over soup that she will even battle the microwave to heat, for his sake.]

If you're hungry after this, I'll find something else. [But he ought to sit down and eat it, unless he thinks he can stand well enough without his good arm for support.]

[He glances over as she gets the food together, his eyes widening. He'd forgotten that part of the reason for this trip had been to get food. And he hadn't eaten much today, but his appetite lately hasn't been great to begin with.]

Oh... i-it's okay, I'm not... that hungry. You didn't have to...

I wanted to. It's all right if you don't eat it all.

[He should have something; she has hopes that eating in company will distract him enough that he finishes it anyway. Fixing herself a fast sandwich, she sits down at the table.]

[...Well... company does help a little, sure. It's enough to get him to trudge over and sit with her, poking absently at the soup. He's not great about conversation right now, so he kind of hopes that she doesn't mind his awkward silence, unless she knows a way to fill it.

....

Soup smells good, though.]

[The silence hardly bothers her. She watches him pretty closely - for signs of pain or panic or any big change - but eating in the quiet is no big deal. He'll talk, if he wants, just like he'll eat if he can.]

[It takes a while - maybe half of the soup - but he finally musters up the courage to try.]

Is... is Teddy okay...?

[She doesn't answer right away. Not because there's something wrong - though there is - but because she doesn't want to give the impression that everything is wrong by answering too fast.]

His wings have healed, but he is very worried about the people close to him. [So...yes and no.] Did you want to know something more specific?

[....Well.

It's a start.]

...I... I don't...

[He fidgets, poking at the remainder of his soup with the spoon, staring down into the bowl like it'll answer all of life's questions. Doesn't seem to be working.]

...It's just that... I'm not really... all there. And- and I try to notice- I do- but he's so good at hiding... and I can't read him like I used to...

Because of what you've been through?

[If it's that, then she thinks it will come back to him. Even if not, the two of them have got to stop worrying about what the other might think of him and just ask instead.]

I think he is hiding, a little bit. To keep you from worrying. [Her voice gentles to a whisper.] Though it isn't working, is it?

[More like the mess his head's become. Though it's more or less the same thing, at this point.]

...No... it's not. Not... when I'm myself enough to notice, anyway...

He's not- ['Not exactly himself' sounds like the absolute wrong thing to say. Mia shuts her mouth and tries again.]

He's not sure of himself. You were hurt- you were all hurt. [In one way or another. Billy might not look at her, but she stops to give him the chance.] When you are more yourself again, maybe you'll talk about it.

...If I get that far...

[It's already been two weeks- working on the third. Hard to hold out hope when the problem doesn't seem to be going anywhere.]

You will. It takes time, though it's hard to wait for.

[Mia believes in him getting better with everything she has.]

...Yeah. And I've kept him waiting for a long time now.

[He really, really wishes there was an easy way out of this.]

[Mia shakes her head, slowly.]

If he is waiting, it is because he wants you to get better for your sake. Not for his.

[Taking things slowly, and broadly, seems to be helping him stay grounded. She doesn't want to throw a bunch of words at him.]

[He fidgets, looking uncomfortable.]

I don't... think it's a good idea for me to do anything for my own sake anymore. Look how it turned out...

I see. What will you do instead, then?

[Telling him what to do and how to do it seems unfair, among other things.]

...Whatever he wants.

[He can't seem to look her in the eye. It's the best decision. He knows that. It has to be.

His wants aren't good. Not at all. Teddy's the one who knows what's best, right?]

So you won't do what you want, then? Ever?

[It is her softest voice above a whisper. She waits, looking at him and hoping he can find it in himself to look back.

And maybe he can't yet. He'll get there.]

You must really trust him.

[He looks up... to about her shoulders. Progress, however slight, even if it doesn't last.]

...There's no one else I trust more. If not him, then... who?

It's important to have someone you can trust that way. It's good.

[He seems so uncertain about whether anything he thinks can be real.]

[Billy falls silent for a long moment at that, mulling it over, rolling it around in his head a few times to give himself a chance to find his response.]

...I don't think... Teddy trusts me anymore.

Hm? [Not wanting him to think she's staring, Mia picks up her plate and takes it over to the little sink in the corner. She doesn't say anything until she sits down again.]

Why do you think so?

I haven't given him a good reason to, have I?

[Mia reaches, slowly, across the table, intending to cover Billy's nearest unoccupied hand with hers. If he draws away, she'll pull back, too.]

You and he love each other. That's a good reason.

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