CONVERSATION PIECE
Anna Del Amico brushed her hair from her eyes and smiled in his direction, her big blue eyes looking across the rough terrain of the cafeteria before they eventually settled on him.
"So," She beamed. "What have you been doing with yourself?"
John Carter smiled boyishly, carefully sipping his coffee and watching the onslaught of both patients, doctors and nurses as each of them brushed past, each on their own particular mission. Del Amico emptied what was probably the equivalent of an entire field of sugar cane into her small, plastic cup - her brow furrowed in thought.
His smile broadened.
"Oh, you know - this and that." He muttered in a non-committal tone.
Del Amico chuckled, stirring her coffee with the provided white, plastic spoon.
"That's not incredibly helpful, Carter." She replied with a short giggle.
Carter raised his arms with a futile gesture.
"Well, what can I say?" He replied. "It's all been pretty quiet, you know"
He smiled again, looking down at the swirling clockwise motion of his coffee It was a smile that concealed an infinite shadow of doubt; the pain of nearly losing someone you just couldn't stop caring about. It was the kind of smile that all sensitive children get, she reflected, the one where they all understand that there are just somethings that you can't come back from - some distances so far that it is impossible to reach out...even if the person that has left on such a journey is sitting on the edge of the bed.
"How's Chase?" She finally asked.
He looked down, beyond the coffee, beyond the table and into nothing, his mind echoing with half formed thoughts.
"Chase has..." He coughed and finally looked up into her deep, understanding eyes. "Chase has had a relapse"
Anna remained quiet, the subtleties of unexpected surprise eating away at her and weaving themselves into the tapestry of her mind. She stretched out a hand across the plastic surface of the table and reached out for him.
"I'm sorry." She whispered.
He looked up, his eyes brimming with tears.
"I didn't see it coming." He whimpered. "I should have...should have been there for him, should have known..."
Her fingers curled around the palm of his hand. "There's nothing you could have done, John, you can't blame yourself." She whispered, her voice soft and lilting.
He tried to turn away but she wouldn't let him. "But I should have..." He replied. "I should have known, Anna."
His eyes glanced over her shoulders, traversing down the distant antiseptic corridors and away...away to the root of the pain, held in check by machines and his mind passed away into fields of pure essence. She rose from her place on the adjacent plastic chair and reached round to him, drawing his broken spirit into her chest and holding onto him as he silently sobbed into her breast. Around them the noise of the hospital rose and fell with a similar sorrow and in the distance perhaps there was a sort of purity that we can reach out to when our bodies are struck down with illness - self inflicted or otherwise.
She held him and he cried, washing away all the months of pain, cleansing himself in her understanding and never moving - just holding on and knowing...simply knowing.
"Shhh," She whispered, running her hands through his mop of pale brown hair. "It's going to be okay, John, it's all going to be okay."
With a tear stricken face he looked up at her.
"Will it?" He asked, his voice dry and purged. "Will it really be okay?"
She nodded, tears beginning to form in her own eyes.
"I promise." She replied. "I promise I'll make it okay, we'll both make it okay."
He nodded mutely, his pain visible, shining from beyond his flooded irises and Anna Del Amico remembered why she did the job she did.
Because she was human and as humans this is all we can hope to achieve - to help one another and be there when we're needed. No angels to fall from grace, nothing implied, just humanity at it's most impure yet most understanding.
Slowly her dry, coffee-tasting lips offered him a weak smile.
"Chase will be okay." She whispered, once again running her gentle, smooth skinned hands through his hair.
He nodded with understanding, staying remotely still, hidden in her bosom. Around them the world unfolded, the sun rose and flowers blossomed for the first time. As long as we live, she thought. There will always be suffering, there will always be those who have fallen.
But that wasn't the point, had never been the point. The point was that if someone falls then you reach out and catch them.
She smiled again.
And that was the beauty of being human - the beauty of knowing someone like Doctor John Carter...because when his friends fell, he was there and no matter how hurt he was feeling, he never gave up, never sacrificed himself to the angst of an uncaring attitude. He was an angel amongst bastards.
Slowly she reached down, brushing the hair from his forehead, and kissed him.
Just once.
No sexual implications just understanding, what friends do for one another.
He looked up at her, finally rising from his genuflection.
"Thank you, Anna." He whispered, his voice sore and quiet. "Thank you for being there."
Once again her lips curled up in a smile.
"It's what I'm here for, John." She whispered in response and squeezed his hand once more in reassurance. Because that's what friends do, she thought."You should get some sleep." She added.
He nodded weakly and shrugged.
"I know."
She squeezed his hand a final time and led him away down the corridor.
"Come on, let's go." She whispered.
John Carter nodded meekly in response and she pushed the door open into the outside world.
It was morning. A time of reconstitution and he was thankful to be there.
In that moment he understood how much she meant to him, the little exchanged glances and the understanding that she was possessed of. Not lovers, no, something more than that Friends. Close friends. She looked at him, once more and he smiled in response. And one day maybe more, he reflected, but for now he wouldn't change a thing...