What a miserable day. I can hear the rain tapping against the window as I stare at the white board full of symptoms. I turn and toss the marker to Chase. He looks confused. I sit down at the table. Chase still hasn't moved.
"Your turn." I say. Finally, Chase moves to the board. He stares at the symptoms and then starts talking. I'm just barely listening to him. All I can really focus on is the rain. I wonder if the rain is depressing Wilson as much as it's depressing me. He looked horrible when I saw him this morning. Though he probably looks better than I do. I'm the one who slept on the couch last night.
"Next." I say. The few words I actually heard Chase say didn't sound interesting. Chase tossed the marker to Cameron.
I'm not really listening to her either. Why can't they just say one word that would explain these symptoms? They always have to explain why they think it could be this or that.
"Next." I say, resting my head on the table.
It wasn't until Foreman's second turn that I heard him say something interesting. I lift my head off the table. "Yeah, go do that."
Foreman looks surprised but doesn't say anything. He leaves the room and Chase follows him. Cameron is looking at me. "Shouldn't you be treating the patient?" I ask.
"If you want to talk, I'll listen." She says gently.
I know I'm in bad shape because I can't think of anything sarcastic to say. "Just go treat the patient."
She stands up and touches my shoulder gently. "Sometimes... apologizing helps... even if the other person was wrong too."
"I shouldn't have to apologize." I say. I frown at the small whine in my voice.
"I think you know that you're the one who started this. Maybe if you had apologized in the first place like you should have..."
"Besides the point." I say, waving my hand dismissively.
Cameron sighs. "Maybe he's just tired of being the only one who ever apologizes."
I silently put my head back on the table and Cameron leaves.
When I get home, Wilson is watching TV on the couch. I silently sit at the other end of the couch. We don't say anything, though Wilson opens his mouth a couple of times. He can't find the right words, I guess, because he kept closing him mouth.
I think about apologizing a couple of times. I don't get as far as Wilson because I can't seem to open my mouth to free the words.
Around ten I decide to give up. It's not that the room is tense, it's just that I can feel Wilson's depression and it's distracting me from my own depressed feelings. It's all too much.
Wilson gives me a hopeful look as I pass. He's silently asking if it's okay for us to sleep in the same bed again. I look at the empty bed. I do miss Wilson sleeping next to me. I think about what Cameron said and sigh. I gather a blanket and a pillow and walk back out to the living room.
Wilson looks confused as he watches me. I drop the pillow and blanket on his lap and then go back to my room.
I hate that hurt look that he gave me, but I'm not ready. I pop two Vicodin and wait for that calm numbness to set in. It's not so much that my leg is bothering me, but that empty feeling in my chest is just too painful to bear. I just don't want to be the one to apologize first.