"I cannot believe how reckless you are, Greg."

He's heard a variation of this so many times that he'd have usually paid no real mind to it, but coming from her, it just sounds a little different to his ears. She knows him, much more than most people he's met – only bested by his brother and parents, more or less – or maybe it's the context that makes it land different than usual. He isn't sure, but it could be a combination of factors. That'd explain why he's so hesitant on pinpointing a single cause or origin.

It's not like he's had a lot available to him to take his mind off all of this either. The joys of being an in-patient are something he hadn't had to face in so long that it just started to feel foreign to him.

"We're in an epidemic, Cybil. I think I did what I had to do."

She crosses her arms and tilts her head up. Yep, that's clearly not what she wanted to hear.

"You know that's not what I meant. I know we're in an epidemic, believe me. I was in the room when Derek operated on you, in case you didn't know."

Oh?

"I… actually didn't know this. He didn't tell me about that."

"Can't say I'm surprised there. This boy looked like he was about to collapse under his own weight when he exited the OR. I'd never seen him in such a state before."

He sighs, smirking.

"Operating on someone he knew must have done that, despite what I told him before the procedure. I suppose logic doesn't always overwrite feelings."

"And it took you this long in your career to realize that?"

"Seeing in in action is a whole other deal, I'd say."

Cybil still looks conflicted over something. Over what, he's got no solid idea (only a hunch and, to be honest, he can't really believe that to be right). Knowing her, he shouldn't probe around if he doesn't want the Iron Vixen to shape him a new face. He's already weakened as is, he really doesn't need a second pass.

"He wasn't the only one feeling uneasy in that OR."

Wait, could his guess be… right? Yeah, sure, as if. It could be Angie or Sidney, for all he knows – but Sidney's been open about his feelings. She must know that already.

"And that'd be?"

She rolls her eyes and sighs in discontent, her posture stiffening. Her frown shines a light on the dark rings he realizes he hasn't noticed until now. Talk about being a terrible friend. They're supposed to know each other more than that, aren't they?

"That'd be me, you jerk."

So, huh… How is he supposed to respond to that without angering even further? It's clear he's messed up there; not that the state of (strangely comfortable) surprise is helping, since the realization just loops inside his mind like a scratched CD repeats the same part of the same track, out of sheer disbelief. He had set his hopes so low and, now that they're burst wide open, he's got nothing to fall back on.

"You don't even know how scared I got when we got that call from Hope. All of a sudden, we saw Sidney lose all of his colour and stutter out you most likely got infected with GUILT. And it only got worse when we discovered you had gotten infected with a strain we didn't even know how to treat. Got to everyone, especially since Derek was away to Africa when you got here."

She sighs again as she takes off and cleans her glasses.

"GUILT is a scary thing, isn't it? It's a danger we don't understand."

"Are you stupid on purpose, Greg?"

Uh oh. She's glaring at him now. He's losing the enthusiasm he was trying to keep up.

"What do you mean?"

Her frown deepens while her demeanour straightens once more, to the point she looks visibly frustrated more than anything. He's sensing an anger he hasn't seen in quite a while, especially since she barely visited him before the procedure. She must've been busy, like most of Caduceus was when Tetarti emerged. Can't blame her for prioritizing her obligations above giving misery some company – especially since he'd have never wanted her to see him in the corpse-like state he was in back there.

"Don't tell me you don't know, Greg. We've known each other for so long that you can't just tell me you've got no idea what I'm talking about. You threw yourself right into a fire yet again as if it was just some standard procedure you needed to take care of. If I wasn't here and if Sidney hadn't lost so many hours of sleep over the idea of losing you, you'd already be trying to get back into Hope, and now, you're telling me you don't think I got worried? C'mon, that's nonsense."

Cybil takes her head into her hands, as if exhaustion was suddenly taking over her whole body.

"I snapped at Derek because he had been in Africa. To me, it looked like he was giving up on you and I had to redirect my frustration and anger somewhere, anywhere. You can't have seen that, but look at me, being hurt over you not noticing things that happened while you were that sick. I can't deny having been scared beyond anything I had ever been through. What I saw while on the force, or that time where Derek and I had to defuse that bomb… I wasn't as scared as I was of losing you."

"Cybil, I…"

She rises her head back up, only to show a smile. A timid, saddened smile, burdened with the words it just said. He's speechless at a time where he should be saying the right words.

"I started to think of solutions to be allowed near you, or to do something about things, when you were here, in case I could do anything about it. I… I started to believe old grandma tricks, the ones like using eucalyptus oil to repel the illness away. I convinced Derek to use mint oils in there in case you had post-surgery nausea. I can still smell it. I'm pretty sure he had pity of me when he told me I could do that."

"Those two plants do have medicinal properties, or so is told, in the case of mint. It wasn't a bad move on your part, I'd say."

He marks a pause, mostly to catch his breath.

"I very much appreciate the attention and effort you put into doing this for me, Cybil. I've never been a smooth speak but, I…" The heat he feels rising to his face can't possibly be a fever, can it? "I don't know what to tell you, Cybil, I really don't. I feel like there's… something I need to say, but it won't come."

Unlike him, who feels like he's being watched over by piercing eyes, she softens.

"I guess my timing is atrocious, not to mention I must smell like a koala's natural habitat. I can't blame you for not processing everything I'm saying at the moment. Just give it some thought, okay? I'll leave you alone, now. My shift's about to start anyway."

He grabs her sleeve with the weakest grip he remembers having ever given out.

"Don't… think I'm discarding your feelings or anything. I'll… I'll have something to tell you, next time you come here, even if it's to bring me mint leaves or something. I promise."

She turns back to face him, a more earnest smirk on her lips.

"How thoughtful of you. I'll be seeing you around, then."

On these words, she leaves the room, the scent of eucalyptus leaves lingering on her skin departing with her, leaving him on his own for the first time since getting hospitalized in Caduceus. It feels oddly cold, as much as he had desired to be isolated when Tetarti was doing its thing.

He has the idea, deep inside, that something has been unlocked somewhere, be it within him or between them; something whose identity he hasn't figured out just yet. Blame it on the painkillers, the anaesthetic, exhaustion, professionalism, anxiety or fear of loss; the answer is not coming now, but it's stepped forward.

It's a shy step, yet nonetheless a step in the right direction. There isn't much he can do about it right now anyway.