Trent stared at his reflection in the discarded head mirror that sat on the edge of his desk. Dark circles around the eyes, pale, lifeless skin… If he had seen a patient with the same face, he would recommend bed rest.

But I'm a doctor with a patient in need – I don't have that luxury.

He thought of the wide, spooked eyes that whirled when he had first entered the room the morning after the patient was admitted. A confused Cliff was straining against the leather straps around his wrists, the heart monitor beeping erratically. Sedatives were needed to calm his nerves, but at the sight of the syringe, the panic was only worse.

Cliff's discomfort when first stepping into the hospital that spring for his initial check up (if it could be called that, as he initially tried to flee) should have been a warning sign; it was unlikely the young man would ever be a voluntary patient. The sterile environment of the hospital and medical equipment made Cliff nervous.

Trent removed this stethoscope and hung his lab coat on the back of his chair.

I'm more than just a doctor.

He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled them up to his elbows. Giving himself one last glance in the head mirror, he swallowed his doubts and walked behind the privacy curtain.

He saw a pair of curious deep blue eyes watch him as he entered. Trent felt a bit of relief; taking off his professional attire was helping set the right mood. He wheeled a stool next to the bed and sat down, his patient weakly squirming at the unusual closeness. He said nothing for a long time – he feared that any talk about his condition would make things worse.

A good doctor – no, a good person – should try to put themselves in someone else's place…

Trent's eyes landed on the leather wrist restraints attached to the bed rails. He noticed their slight movement as Cliff restlessly tugged on them, almost like a nervous habit. It was likely the patient was a little more than anxious despite the medications that had been administered to him, but he was going to end up with more bruising if he kept up his struggle. Trent already knew that unfastening them would result in disaster; a weakened Cliff would undoubtedly try to bolt, judging from the way his eyes darted toward the entryway from time to time. Perhaps a story would calm him down a bit.

Where to begin?

He could still remember the first time he saw Carter roll up his sleeve for a blood draw. His eyes had traveled to the scar on his arm and he was given a sympathetic chuckle in response.

"Got it from one of my more foolish youthful ventures. If you would've told me then that I would become a priest I'd have laughed in your face."

The memory caused a rueful smile to cross Trent's mouth; there had never been any questioning what he'd be when he grew up.

"It was always expected that I would be a doctor," he began, shifting on his stool. It creaked softly, and Cliff listened to the soft humming of the fluorescent lights above them. Trent heard the movements of the restraints cease. "My parents were doctors, you see. I began studying medicine as soon as I graduated from high school…"

He could still remember those late nights cramming for exams, sipping at coffee to keep awake into the wee hours of the morning as his eyelids grew heavy.

"It wasn't something I necessarily wanted to do, but it made Mom and Dad happy…"

He looked over to see Cliff's eyebrows furrowed and a large frown across his mouth. Trent let out a soft chuckle. His patient didn't realize this story had a happy ending.

"The more I learned about medicine, the more I realized what a sacred duty it was. I found in time that I wanted to study it. I wanted to become the best doctor I could be, and now I'm able to help people. I found my calling. It seems my parents really did want what was best for me."

He looked up at Cliff, expecting to see a wave of relief on his face. He was taken aback to see that a silent tears were flooding down the young man's cheeks, and a disturbed expression could be seen in his eyes. "… Cliff?"

The voice that responded was very soft but firm. He was surprised it wasn't scratchier from lack of use. "I'm glad that you're happy, but please leave me alone."

Trent instinctively reached for his patient's forearm, but Cliff attempted to pull away, the leather restraints creaking. The doctor retracted his hand as if he had touched something hot. "What's wrong?"

Did I say something? What did I do?

Cliff said nothing in reply, but only shook his head, the tears flowing more freely as he averted his eyes in shame.

Trent had never been treated this way by a patient. He found that his throat was beginning to tighten as he stood up to get some tissues. Remembering that Cliff was unable to use his hands, Trent wiped his tears for him, only for them to immediately dampen his face once more. Cliff choked on a silent sob.

"Pl-please go."

When Trent remained and wiped his face once more, Cliff became irritated, his restraints pulling and his breathing becoming shallow. "Stop touching me." His voice was much less friendly.

Startled, Trent pulled his hands away and straightened his posture, fighting the instinct to assert his authority over him as a physician. Elli's words rang in his head, irritating him.

"It's not like we can force him to feel a certain way…"

He had coaxed Cliff into speaking, at the very least. Afraid of undoing any progress, he took a step backward, not without feeling frustration and guilt.

I have notes to write… His speech patterns sound normal…

"Leave me alone."

He is able to express himself through words… He's using full sentences, albeit short ones…

The uncharacteristically cold gaze he was given caused Trent to take another step back. A lump formed in his throat.

Patient's pulse is elevated. Suffering from acute stress brought on by unknown factors. The care plan will be reviewed to add more cognitive behavior therapy… Prognosis is currently…

His dark eyes flicked toward Cliff's misty ones a final time before retreating to his office with a silent sigh.

… unknown.

"A badger? Really? I told you it wasn't worth it," Ivy scolded, shuffling through the first aid kit.

Cliff rolled his eyes. "I think we're beyond that. Can you just stitch it up before Ma gets back?"

"It was stupid," Ivy continued, removing the bloody cloth her brother was pressing against his arm. She took a look at the damage and winced. "Not nearly enough meat for all that work. You know how much of a pain it is degreasing them… Or did you just want the pelt?"

She was given a poisonous glare in response. "None of it would have gone to waste."

She cast him a suspicious look; the last time they had badger stew, Cliff's bowl remained half-eaten until he was scolded to finish it. "Well, at any rate, it got away… And you got left with this…" She frowned at his arm as she began to disinfect it. He flinched in pain and clenched his teeth.

She had treated her brother's bumps and scrapes before, but this was a more complicated injury. Her medical training was going to come in handy today, she realized with a sigh. She wadded up a clean cloth and handed it to him. "Here, bite down on this."

He accepted the offer, moving his eyes to the ground.

"Ma's going to be furious," she pointed out. His body tensed in reply. "You're going to need to relax – the needle's going in."

The sixteen-year-old bit down harder on the fabric; his sister needed to work on her bedside manner. His blood ran cold as he felt a sharp prick, and he choked back a cry as he felt the stitches pulled through his skin.

"Why did you do something so reckless?" Ivy's voice quavered as she knotted the thread. A fresh wave of pain washed over him as the needle sank back in. "No one asked you to catch anything, and you had to go after something dangerous..."

Cliff said nothing as his eyes remained glued to the floor.

She just doesn't get it…

He was hit with another rash of burning pain as she pulled another thread through. "Is this going to affect your sanshin playing? What is Elder Zinnia going to think of this? Are you trying to get out of her lessons? You need to think of your responsibilities!"

Cliff's free arm clenched into a fist. He stood up abruptly and Ivy let out a surprised shriek as she let go of the needle. The bloodstained tip swung back and forth like a pendulum as she looked up at her brother in silence. She was unsure if the tears welling in his eyes were from the pain or something else. He made a motion to remove the cloth from his mouth.

Ivy's eyes hardened. "Sit back down."

He blinked rapidly, as if breaking free from a trance. He wiped his face with his free hand and plopped down beside her obediently.

She continued her work in silence. "I promise I won't tell Ma you were hunting again, but you have to take responsibility for your actions… And it's going to be pretty hard to hide these stitches…" Her breath hitched as she looked at the blood-soaked cloths sitting on the floor beside them. "D-do you think I like sewing you back together like this?"

She finished tying the final knot and their eyes met, identical shades of deep blue clashing. Her eyes welled with tears as she pulled the wad of cloth from his mouth. "Well, do you?"

Cliff stared at her with the same intensity, but he said nothing.

She just doesn't get it…

"The measuring cups are in this drawer over here." Mary's voice was upbeat as she worked at the pumpkin in front of her. Her sleeves were rolled up and a floral printed apron kept the rest of her protected from the mess she was making.

Claire never would have guessed that she'd end up in the Brown family's kitchen that afternoon. She had stopped by the grocery store for some shopping and was disappointed find that Karen wasn't around. Staring blankly at the shelves of goods, she realized she had forgotten what she came for and a deep sadness began to creep up on her.

Useless, stupid, and clumsy… I really can't do anything right…

Mary's invitation to spend the afternoon together was a bit of a surprise. If Claire were more aware of her surroundings, she would have noticed that Mary didn't so much invite her as gently tell her that she was coming home with her, adding a few staples for Claire in her own basket and leading the dazed young woman to the cash register.

Claire's eyes moved back toward Mary, who was throwing her weight into the handle of the knife. Despite her petite figure, she was stronger than she looked, and the pumpkin gave way to the blade with a satisfying crack.

Mary brushed her bangs out of her face with the back of her hand. "Phew. Now it's time to steam it. I think it would make sense to do the whole thing. I can pack up leftovers for later."

Claire gave a nod as she finished pouring in the flour and mixing the pie crust. She carefully placed it into the baking dish and moved to chopping vegetables. There was something about working in a kitchen that put her mind at ease. She was brought back to her teenage days, preparing meals in the kitchen after school so that her family could come home to a hot meal. It brought a familiar warm glow.

She was busy.

She was productive.

She was useful.

I can still be all those things now.

"It's really kind of you to check on Ellen and Stu when Elli is busy." Claire didn't look up from the cutting board.

Mary shook her head. "We're best friends – we look out for each other. I know she would do the same for me, and she has more than enough responsibilities to juggle on her own."

That's right – Ellen and Stu – they're both depending on Elli…

She thought of the kind worry in her large brown eyes as she worked with Trent on their patient. Her movements were swift yet careful, and it was easy to see that she put a lot of heart into her work.

Cliff is depending on her, too…

She looked down at her chopped onions. She became suddenly aware of the way her eyes were stinging and the tears were running down her face.

"I can take over if you like," Mary's tone was gentle. "I know those onions sometimes put up a bit of a fight."

"I can finish." Claire wiped her eyes clumsily with her sleeve. "I want to be helpful."

It's the onions, right…?

Blinking the tears out of her eyes, she continued chopping and let out a sigh of relief when she dumped the onions into the sizzling pan. She set down the cutting board and knife and was surprised to feel a soft, warm hug around her shoulders.

"You're being plenty helpful," Mary murmured.

Claire felt tears streaming down her cheeks again once more as a lump formed in her throat. Mary's perceptiveness once again caught her by surprise. She gently rested her hands over Mary's and closed her eyes, letting the tears flow.

What am I feeling? Sadness? Relief? Both?

It's definitely not just the onions, but… maybe that's okay.

Cliff's head was throbbing as he sat stiffly. His eyelids were heavy and he blinked rapidly, hoping he could keep his head from drooping forward. The night before had consisted of an awful row with his mother and the lack of sleep was just one of many things that made it hard to focus. His special training session with the elder had started early this morning.

"The Hunting Goddess blesses us by providing us with resources in the forest. It is important that we understand that while this is given to us done so out of the Goddess's love, we are not to abuse it…"

Elder Zinnia's voice droned on as Cliff attempted to avoid slouching.

"… One example is the hunter's prayer. Not only are we praising the Goddess for providing us with sustenance, we are thanking the animal for allowing us to take its life. Therefore, it is of utmost importance that not a single bit of the creature be wasted…"

Cliff's eyes flashed and he felt much more alert.

The hunters…

I should be out there training to be one…

He gritted his teeth. Being forced to sit on the sidelines was one thing, but having to sit through lessons of everything the hunters got to do was little less than torture. The sixteen-year-old squirmed in his seat. His eyes drifted toward the window and his breath hitched when he saw a teenage girl with short cropped black hair lifting a basket of foraged goods in each hand. Despite her sharp, determined brown eyes, her jaw line was soft, and her cheeks flushed with exertion.

Wren.

Despite the uncomfortable twisting in his stomach, a hint of a smile curled at the corner of his mouth as he watched her walk along. Ivy was with her, toting along a basket of her own, but her strength was easily surpassed by her friend. Why such a talented, beautiful, and fascinating girl had any interest in hanging out with his sister was beyond him, but he didn't mind when she could come over occasionally for dinner. He would sneak shy peeks at Wren as looked up from his bowl and his cheeks would burn when he realized she was doing the same thing and their eyes locked. It might have been the lighting, but her face looked a bit flushed…

Cliff gulped as his eyes followed them, the color rising in his cheeks.

"… and it's very important that we do this carefully. Do you understand, Cliff?"

The boy craned his neck as he watched the girls disappear from view.

The loud slap on the table's surface caused him to jump to attention. "Cliff, what did I just say?"

He blinked rapidly and straightened his posture, biting his lip as he frantically searched for a topic. "Ah, th-the dances…"

The elderly woman shot him a frustrated look. "This is important information, Cliff! I suggest you focus harder if you want respect from your peers."

Cliff shrank back in his seat. Did all of the adults know how much of an outcast he was?

"Your mother came to me in tears when Flint passed away and she was absolutely devastated. She begged for a different future for you. She wanted to keep you safe."

Cliff's brow furrowed.

No one asked me what I wanted to do…

Elder Zinnia wasn't finished. "And I have taken you in with these lessons because I saw great potential in you, and I still do! Do not squander this opportunity to make something of yourself!" Her voice was sharp as her eyes pierced into his.

His mother's warning echoed in his head – "Do not make the elder angry; she is a busy woman and it is an honor to receive one-on-one training with her. It is a privilege."

"I suggest, for more than your sake and mine alone, that you take your studies a little more seriously."

His eyes flicked to the window. They had been studying for hours and his brain was exhausted. When he wasn't with the elder, he was practicing on his flute or sanshin, singing until his voice was hoarse. "B-but I was only-"

"And you are not to speak out of turn!" Her words caused him to flinch. "Show some respect!"

Cliff gulped, hanging his head in shame.

"I know you are a smart kid, Cliff. Don't make me think otherwise again."

He shrank back. "Y-yes, M'am."

The beeping of the monitors by the bed had lulled Cliff into a daze. Memories swam through his mind as he lay there, staring blankly at the wall. A familiar delicious smell entered his consciousness. Whether it was imagined or real, he wasn't sure. Sometimes he was at home with his family, eating dinner. Other times he was staring at the sharp end of a syringe, eyes widened in fear as he found himself unable to move. Voices of those he hadn't heard in years echoed through his ears, but it had been so difficult to tell what was real or not anymore.

"M-Ma?"

Cliff's eyes curiously followed Elli as she entered the room with a takeout box in her hand. There was an extra spring in her step and her eyes had more life in them. Despite this, she kept her distance, turning toward the food she had placed on the table.

She thought carefully before speaking, and Cliff looked down at the tube in his arm, tugging a bit on his restraints.

This place again…

"I can imagine you're pretty hungry. How are you feeling?" she asked softly, her gaze moving toward him.

I didn't want this place to be real, but it looks like it is.

He was silent for a long time and Elli turned away, realizing it was unlikely she'd get a response. When he finally did speak, she found herself jumping a bit in surprise.

"It's kind of hard to put into words," he confessed quietly, his voice barely audible.

She stepped back toward the hospital bed, checking the numbers on the machines. "Do you remember what happened to you on Saturday?"

He blinked.

"It's all fuzzy," he confessed. He hazily recalled the physicians explaining his wandering out in the cold, but he couldn't imagine doing something so reckless – he had dealt with enough minor cases of frostbite in the past than to underestimate the cold. "I feel like I'm waking up from a long dream."

"But you haven't been sleeping well," Elli pointed out. "Our readings indicate you're getting maybe a couple of hours of sleep a day."

Drifting from the past to the present, it was difficult to tell when he had been awake. Still, his sore and fatigued body seemed to support her claim. His eyes turned toward the window, observing the heavy flakes falling outside.

Ivy, Ma, Papa, Elder Zinnia… "I've… had a lot on my mind," he mumbled.

In a way it feels like I'm still trapped…

She gave a nod. "Your collapse was induced by stress." Elli took a seat on the stool and placed a gentle hand over his. "I want to thank you for always being kind to my brother. I know Carter already stopped by, but… I want to be able to help you, too. Please know that this is a safe place. If you need to talk, I'm here to listen."

He turned his eyes down toward the blanket. "I've been enough trouble already. I think… I think I should be heading back to the inn…" Guilt rose in his stomach as he realized how much work he had already missed. Would Duke and Manna let him keep his job at the winery? How did they feel about him missing so much work? Would they lose trust in him? How was he going to make an income?

She gave him a worried frown. "I'm afraid it's not that simple. Until Doctor Trent says that you are stable enough and not a danger to yourself, it's strongly advised that you stay here."

"I could lose my job…" Cliff's face twisted in anxiety as the heart monitor increased its pace. "I really need to go."

"Duke and Manna have been informed you are here," she replied.

That doesn't mean they're not mad at me for being gone. How many days of work have I missed? Can I afford rent? How much is my treatment here going to cost? What about affording food? What if Gotz is feeding Cain too much or too little? What about Claire? Gray? Karen? Ann and Doug?

Claire… is she angry or annoyed?

His head was spinning and his body felt heavy as he let out a tired sigh.

Elli gave him a sympathetic look, stroking his hand with hers. "It's alright to be stressed. It's how we deal with hard situations."

She was slightly taken aback at the mistiness in his eyes. His voice trembled, but remained soft. "I-I'm so tired… so tired of dealing."

But… it's about more than work, my friends, and Claire…

"I've spent so many years trying to forget…"

Elli's eyebrows rose in interest; this was more than he had opened up with anyone since being admitted. "Then… maybe it's time to stop trying to forget and time to face it head on."

His brows furrowed once more and he looked back down at the blanket. Elli's eyes traveled over him; despite the restraints, his body language was closed off.

Elli wheeled the stool closer and slowly worked at the leather straps on his wrists. "Sometimes… we feel like we're not allowed to heal, like this is something we deserved all along."

Cliff's bewildered eyes followed her as she worked at the other wrist. Was she letting him leave?

"We think about what we should have done, what we could have done, and it leaves us feeling powerless. We ended up the way we did because of the choices we made, after all." She stared down at the loose straps in her hands thoughtfully, her throat tightening. "It can feel fitting, then, to punish ourselves. It can feel like the only thing we have control left over - to dominate - when everything and everyone else seems to have the upper hand."

Cliff found that he didn't want to leave; he was was hanging onto her every word.

"It's true – we sometimes are left with nothing else to control. It can be scary." She carefully removed the tube from the IV drip.

"Are you going to tell me that I can control my outlook on the situation?" The sardonic smirk on his face was uncharacteristic.

Elli poured a glass of water and sat back down, giving the young man a look of understanding. "Both you and I know it's not as simple as that." She pulled out the hospital tray and set the water in front of Cliff. "Trying to change your attitude is just one part of it."

She tried her best to hide her excitement at his interest in the water. His shaky hands lifted the glass. In his feebleness, a bit ran down his chin and onto his cotton shirt, but it was more than a little encouraging. After all, he didn't seem aware of the fact he had a body to take care of since he had come into the hospital.

"Perhaps allowing yourself the chance to heal is the biggest step of all. When I lost my parents, Stu was still practically a baby, and Grandma was already declining in health. I felt abandoned. I felt angry." She swallowed thickly as she clasped her hands in her lap, recalling those painful memories of a very young Stu asking about the whereabouts of their deceased parents. "I didn't ask to be a new mother for Stu. I was finishing up school and had a life and apartment of my own. I was twenty-seven at the time – the same age as many mothers – but I wasn't prepared and I didn't have a partner to help raise him. We moved to Mineral Town because Grandma wanted to help out… I didn't realize she had been struggling as much as she had." Elli blinked away the mistiness in her eyes. "I didn't ask to be a caregiver for her, either. Sometimes life gives us things we think we can't handle… It's easy to feel like we've been forsaken."

Cliff clumsily set down the glass, his lips a grim line. "But… at least you got the chance to get closer with the family you have left."

He was given a nod in response. "That's true, and I'm really grateful for it. Not everyone is as lucky as I am, and everything processes things in their own way."

He didn't say anything in reply, reaching for the water once more.

"I'm thankful I have friends again, too," Elli murmured. "I was so focused on school that I didn't leave time for much else. I was living in a bubble. I made a lot of friends since we moved back here. It's… nice." The corners of her lips tilted upwards slightly. "You forget how pleasant simple things can be – a sunset, a favorite song, a warm meal… they're so much more enjoyable when you have someone to share them with."

She could see him staring blankly into his glass of water. Whether she had scared him off from conversation or he was zoning out, she wasn't quite sure. "Ah, speaking of meals!" Her abrupt voice caused Cliff to snap out of his trance. "I picked a little something up for you from the inn." She eagerly retrieved a takeout container from the counter and brought it over to him.

The savory blend of spices filled the air as the steam rose from the lid, reminding him of brisk fall evenings in Akiyama. He always set the table with a spring in his step when he smelled it cooking over the hearth.

"Curry. Claire said it was your favorite."

At the sound of her name, Cliff's heart was struck with a jolt as he was assaulted with vivid flashes.

Musical laughter in her cozy farmhouse.

Smiling sapphire eyes looking over him as he awoke from a nap on Mystic Acres.

Desperate arms clasping him tight when he felt his heart had been removed from his body.

A thick city accent cracking as she pleaded with him.

Soft, pink lips pressed against his as the stars illuminated the sky above them.

His worries from earlier dissolved as he focused on that source of warmth and comfort, and he realized at once how desperate he was for her company.

Claire…

"C-can I… can I see her?" he stammered, ignoring the food. "I-I mean… if she's willing to visit…"

The rosiness in his cheeks was a positive change. Elli hid a smirk. "I'd really like to have you eating and drinking before we allow any guests… Then we can keep you off that IV…"

He shoveled a spoonful of food into his mouth and chewed, not before his quivering hands caused him to drop half of its contents on the tray in front of him.

He hadn't been particularly lonely the past couple of days – he had been lost in memories, vivid dreams, and nightmares. He thought once more of that gentle hand on his while they recited prayers in the church.

He suddenly realized how long the past couple of days had been.

It will be a relief to see her again…

He took another bite of rice, the curry sauce running down his chin.

I need to see her face… hear her voice…

Elli quickly took notice of his enthusiasm. "Pace yourself, Cliff. Don't worry; I'll tell Claire you want to see her. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to see you."

Cliff's relieved smile was interrupted by a hiccough. Elli let out a slight chuckle, her burden of worry a little less heavy.

The hour had grown late, and yet, the light peeking under the crack of her door caused Elli's eyes to open.

She often cursed herself for being such a light sleeper. The nurse thought that it could potentially come in handy and alert her when there were after hours emergencies in the clinic she lived above. This wasn't the case; the heavier dose of sedatives Cliff willingly agreed to take would have him out cold for the night, finally granting him a night of solid rest.

Elli rolled onto her back, taking a deep breath as sleep left her. The lights were still on, after all.

He's awake, too…

Sliding out of bed, she turned on the lamp on her nightstand. She ran a few fingers through her short, brown locks; years ago, she would have insisted on using a brush in this situation. Still, she pulled on her bathrobe over her nightgown for modesty as she stepped into her slippers.

Making her way down the stairs, her eyes fully adjusted to the sterile bright lights of the clinic. She stifled a yawn as she walked toward the doctor's office, the door of which was still shut tightly. A very aggressively-written DO NOT DISTURB had been written in his hand and taped to the door earlier that day, and Elli had taken no chances with this. After Cliff had settled in, she went to bed herself, deciding that she would report back to Trent the next day when his mood was calmer.

Still, maybe I should have tried to approach him sooner…

She shook her head; she had enough experience with Stu's tantrums to know that sometimes silence and contemplation were more useful than anything else.

I guess it's kind of disrespectful to compare him to a child; he is my superior, after all…

Taking a deep breath, she turned the doorknob and entered. It looked as if the doctor hadn't moved from his spot since she left. His elbows were on the desk. He was hunched forward, his forehead buried in his hands. His dark tufts of hair peeked out from between his fingers. She wondered for a brief moment if he had fallen asleep, but a deep sigh signaled that he was still awake.

Elli gulped, quietly closing the door behind her and stepping inside. "Doc-" Her voice died in her throat. She tried again, her voice much more soothing. "Trent."

His head moved upward at her presence. His bangs were wild, and the worry lines were firmly etched into his forehead.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in," he mumbled, looking back down at the papers strewn on his desk.

"You're still up…" She knew she was stating the obvious, but she wasn't sure how to start conversation.

"I've been thinking about a lot."

His words reminded her of their patient's. "Ah, Cliff should be out for the night. I gave him a heavier sleep aid at his request…"

"You spoke with him?" Elli wasn't sure if he was angry or surprised as she gazed at the intensity of his stare.

She gave a gentle nod. "Yes. He drank a little water, and he even managed to eat a bit. His body's adjusting to the idea of eating," she explained with a rueful smile, "but I'm glad he's interested in food again."

Trent didn't look up at her. "I see. Did you document his progress in the chart?"

A small frown crossed Elli's lips. "Of course. Everything is recorded."

The doctor interlocked his fingers and rested his chin on his folded hands. "I'm surprised he asked for you to come and see him."

There was a quiet hostility to his voice that put her on edge. Still, she felt herself becoming defensive as she tucked her hands into her robe pockets. "W-well, I was just doing an evening check with him, and I thought it might help to bring some food from Doug's…"

"I thought you were content with leaving Carter in charge of the situation." Trent sat up and looked her in the eye. She was taken aback by the bloodshot gaze she was given. "You both made it sound as if he was more than capable of bringing Cliff around all by himself."

Elli steeled herself. "That's not what I said. I said that continuing to see Carter might prove to be helpful."

"You said we did everything we could, and Carter should take it from here."

The young woman bit her lip, trying to think of how to word her reply. Sharp words formed in her mind.

He's completely out of line…

Before she could speak, he continued.

"Why, then, did you take it upon yourself to bring him food without his request? He was on the IV and his nutrition was being taken care of. You spoke with him. You tried to coax him out of his shell…"

Elli stared at him in bewilderment, lost for words. Was she being reprimanded for doing her job?

"And you succeeded where I so miserably failed." His voice dripped with agony as he covered his face with his hand.

Seeing him anything other than his usual stoic self was unsettling. Anger immediately forgotten, Elli gave him a concerned look as she moved closer to the desk. "What are you talking about?"

"After you left, I… I tried approaching Cliff. I told him a story about my childhood. I opened up to him…" His words cracked.

The only one who has heard more about my past is Carter, and I'm already losing him to Cliff… I'm no one's first choice…

When he spoke again, his voice was low. "I got him to talk, but… all he did was ask me to leave."

Elli frowned. "It may have just been bad timing. Reactions can be unpredictable with patients who are emotionally distressed."

Trent took a bit of time to reply. The words kept slipping from him as he tried to come up with a response that was understandable. "I know, I…" He paused, shaking his head. "When I think about it logically, I know what you're saying makes sense. But still, as a doc– no, as a person-… I've failed in a lot of ways."

"None of us are perfect," Elli supplied sympathetically. She looked over at him, lacing her fingers together. "I… I don't blame you for my grandmother. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. You're a doctor, not a magician."

She was taken aback when his face grew even more anguished, frustrated at his flub of the tongue that she appeared to be fixated on. "That… wasn't what I meant." He let out a soft sigh.

I've built this up for so long… I wonder if it's even reversible at this point…

"I'd like to be seen as more than a doctor," he whispered. "The fact that Cliff couldn't talk to me and see me as anything else… You were able to do it – make him see you as a person…"

Her mind was brought back to images of the church courtyard. Stu and Cliff both had flowers in their hair and were searching for four-leaved clovers in the summer heat, as they often did. "He's friends with my brother," she reminded him. "He's seen me outside of work."

Glumly looking around his office, Trent sighed as the frown on his face grew. "I do spend a lot of time in here… I'm as bad as my parents," he mumbled.

"It doesn't have to stay that way," she pointed out, giving him a cautious smile.

"True, I could…" His mind formed a blank as he looked around him.

"Why not stop by the library? Mary is great at giving recommendations, and Gray goes there in the afternoons."

He gave a noncommittal shrug.

Elli's cheeks flushed as she averted her eyes, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I could come with you if it would make you feel more comfortable."

"I suppose that could make it feel a little more natural," he replied, the worry lines smoothing from his forehead.

She glowed at his choice of words, but she was aware that calling attention to his familiar way of speaking with her would produce the opposite effect. She turned away, a hint of a smile creeping across her lips. "How about we call it a night?"

To her pleasure, Trent was stashing his papers away in their files. His voice was tired, but there was much less strain in it. "Sounds like a plan."

Author's Note: Thank you for your patience as I have slowly been getting these chapters out. I'm so touched by your kind thoughts and well wishes as well as your overall support. Loss is never easy, and I find myself drawing on a lot of my own experiences as I have been writing these more recent chapters.

It's been a while since I've written a chapter that doesn't revolve around Claire's point of view. She did, however, make it into the chapter, although her role was cut shorter than I originally anticipated. I had a sketch planned with her at Ellen's with the hopes of lightening the mood and maybe adding a bit of humor with Stu, but I just couldn't seem to make it work. By the way, if you're wondering why they're making a pie with pumpkin and onions, Mary and Claire are making a pumpkin and herring pie, inspired by the movie Kiki's Delivery Service.

I hope the overall mood of the chapter doesn't feel horribly heavy. This is a transitional chapter and I was hoping to invoke a feeling of hope for the future. The memories Cliff is having are a little more on the negative side, but they're building up to something more important. I hope you're looking forward to an extended chain of memories in the next chapter. Thank you so much for reading along, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays!