Wally practically squealed when May came through his door at the hospital. He hadn't seen her since yesterday. Still, May smiled despite this. He was just so utterly and completely happy. She felt bad about it, as she supposed one should. In a way, one would describe it as guilt. It was a combination of self-pity and despair for another. He made people feel as if they had missed something along the way, something he already had, but they did not. Something May desperately wanted. He was constantly and consistently trying to cheer everyone up. But she felt guilty, like a burden, around him. She felt incompetent. Simply inadequate.

But Wally had a way with people. He knew when something was upsetting another. He knew, usually, how to cheer them up. But May was almost always happy. His mouth twitched downwards slightly after she had walked in, something was wrong, and he didn't know what. Her shoulders were slumped, her smile not big, her voice lower, not carrying its usual tone. After some small talk with her, Wally took the lead, asked her if she was okay. She fidgeted with her hands, nodded, and muttered something close to a yes while staring at her shoes.

"May," Wally said mock-accusingly, "please don't lie to me. I don't like it. And I'm here to help." He took her hand and smiled brightly.

May stared at his bed rail and bit her lip before saying, "I'm not happy."

"So?" Wally said, raising his eyebrow.

May looked up, alining her eyes with his, and paused before suddenly, passionately, saying, "So? What do you mean so? How dare you, do I not mean anything? Sorry that my emotions are such a bother. Sorry that I can't be happy all the time. Sorry that I can't be as perfect as…" She tried to say more, but it came out stuttered and slurred, a mess of raw, draining, words. She stopped herself, she couldn't insult Wally. He'd been there for her since the beginning. She couldn't do it. She needed him. She didn't want to be alone. She couldn't have him die.

"May." Wally said. She continued to speak in a jumbled way, her voice rising in volume.

"May." Wally said once more, taking her other hand. She continued to ramble.

"May!" He nearly screamed, squeezing her hands. She jolted upright, as if out of a trance.

"Listen, please," He said, lowering his voice to an acceptable level. She nodded, her eyes becoming wet, about to cry.

"It's not that you are not allowed to be sad. That is not it. It's about being happy despite your sadness." He spoke, looking her directly in the eyes. "And, I understand I am not perfect. My imperfections don't really matter to me, and as long as I try to be the best I can be, imperfections don't really stand in the way."

May's face was turning red, a splotchy mess that had tears run down her cheeks and a stuffy nose. She opened her mouth to defend herself against the imperfect part, but Wally interrupted, "It's okay May. I know what you're feeling."

She struggled for words, but could ultimately find none. She sighed and sat back in the hard, barely-used chair. She saw Wally smile once more as she drifted to sleep in the cold, stale, hospital.

There was a hand on May's shoulder. " Ma'am, visiting hours are over. Please come back another time." A nurse said.

May stood up so quickly she became dizzy. She nodded to the nurse and said her goodbyes to her friend, who told her to come back soon. She walked out of the building and straight into the rain. May inhaled sharply and allowed herself to stand there, feeling the warmth of the rain on her cool skin. She stood there for quite a few moments, just thinking about what had been said to Wally earlier that day. She couldn't think about it. It was too painful. She grabbed at her eon flute and called for Latias. Hopping atop the giant Pokemon's back, she pushed her thoughts towards the rain and not on insulting Wally. As she came towards her house, she remembered that Wally had forgiven her. She didn't know how or why he had done so, but he had.

And so she let the rain wash away the mistakes and angst of the day, and knew that tomorrow would be better, as it was a second chance.