A/N: This started off as a shippy drabble I wrote a while ago without any real intentions of posting, however, as of recent-ish events on the show, I feel like I should continue it when I get the chance.
Dr. Lance Sweets observed as Neviah Larkin continued painting, unfazed by his presence. He wasn't exactly sure what drew him to her in the first place or even what exactly kept him so fascinated, but he knew he felt compelled to help her. Many of the doctors had said that by now she was a lost cause, but he wanted desperately to prove them wrong. Was it just as insane for him to be so persistent towards this possibly impossible goal? Perhaps. But couldn't one make the same argument that love could be this same type of insanity? It was too soon for him to know for sure whether it was love, a shallow infatuation, or merely just interest he was feeling for Neviah, but he knew that he wanted to stay here by her side for as long as he could. At least maybe in all that time, he could find some solution one day.
She rarely spoke to him during their visits. Often, if she said anything, it was always her usual babble about angels and Heaven. Sweets was never an incredibly religious person, but he gladly listened to her, if only to find the slightest hint of what could help her. Even beyond her small talk, he would carefully observe her behavior, hoping for some kind of sign that she had the potential to see beyond her delusions.
"Visiting hours are over," Neviah's regular psychiatrist declared after several hours had long since passed.
"Thank you," Sweets replied. He waved goodbye to the blonde, and she smiled back at him. It was neither the standard type of smile that friends would often use nor the forced kind of courtesy smile, but something warmly graceful, like how he imagined a goddess would look at her worshipers. Something that said, without a word, "I'll be watching over you."