(A/N: Sorry for not updating. I checked views one day and got sad to see literally zero. I've gotten notifs about the story, though, so I think it might be a glitch. Anyone else lose access to their traffic stats? Either way, I'll catch the story up to Ao3 over the next three days. Let me know what you think, so on, so forth.)

"I'm busy taking stock of all the things that I've forgot
And making mental notes of just exactly where I lost the plot"

—"Memo to Human Resources" from The Spine by They Might Be Giants

Now, sitting in misery is no form of pleasant, of course. With only the sterile (if cozy) room, blankets, bed, and intermittent applesauce to entertain her, Max had no real way to keep herself busy while she waited. When she was still bathing in melancholy, this didn't really matter. She had no motivation to spare, so it hadn't bothered her she had nowhere to put it. Time passed with little impact on her.

Excited waiting was torture. She had every dream she'd ever imagined right in front of her—pure, unadulterated delight right on the horizon, and she couldn't even jump for joy. Trying, well, the ensuing pain had at least briefly distracted her from waiting.

"Hey, Olive?" Max asked.

"Your friends are still on their way, and the medicine should come within the hour," Olive answered without looking up from her book and even turning a page half-way through.

"Oh, thanks!" Max cheered. It was the same answer she'd gotten five or so minutes ago. Pushing cheer out of her voice did very well to mask the warmth running to her cheeks. She wanted to ask who was coming, but Olive had only sat reading her book in the two minutes since Max asked that the fifteenth time. If she'd anticipated this, she would have asked them to bring her something to do.

She hadn't read in a while. Perhaps she could start up a conversation about Olive's book.

Of course, asking Olive what she was reading for the eighth time wouldn't bring much more information than the first seven. Max had the pamphlet, sure, but she'd already memorized it the first time she read it. Sleep eluded her, too. Did the hospital really have nothing for patients? It was getting to the point that she hadn't asked for more pain killers because at least hurting was technically doing something.

Someone knocked on the door four times, and Max half-jumped to shout, "Come in—ow!" She clutched at her rib with a fierce wince. Maybe she should've asked for pain killers earlier. It wasn't debilitating as the last time, but she definitely had trouble seeing.

She turned to face the person approaching her bedside and asked, "Hey, Olive, can I get some more pain killer?"

"Uh," Cori mumbled. Max peaked a tenth of one eye open to see blue instead of tan and brown. Cori turned to the only other person in the room, only to see Olive already on her way. "I think so?"

"Yes," Olive chuckled. She nudged Cori out of the way as she reached under the bedside table. "You ate not too long ago, but do you still—"

"Sure!" Max squeaked. Her stomach hadn't been full since she got there. Swallowing had stopped hurting so much, but they didn't seem quite willing to let her have their entire stock of applesauce yet, for some reason. Regardless, she opened her mouth for Olive to drop the tablet in and swallowed it. With some water to chase it, she started pushing herself up to sit.

It hurt like hell, but the relief was on its way, and she wanted to see who all had come. When she forced one eye open, she saw Cori. Just like them to hurry the most, she supposed. "Hey!" Max cheered even as she still struggled to sit up. Her back was against the pillow, now, and that seemed to be her limit for the time being. Even through the pain, she couldn't hold back an exuberant smile.

"Hey," Cori said, looking between her and Olive. They had both paws on the bed, tottering slightly side to side. "How are you feeling?" Their eyes locked onto Max's as if terrified to look anywhere else. The temptation grew for an instant too much, and their quick peak to Max's tail betrayed what ate at Cori's mind.

"Great!" Max cheered. The pain had just subsided enough for her to smile free of a wince, though her slight bounce mitigated the progress. Cori winced a bit themself at the sight. "Well, as good as I can be."

"Are you sure?" Cori asked. They looked her over as if to prove a point, but they still barely managed a glance at her tail. The sheet didn't cover it enough for them. "You seemed pretty…." They froze in place, staring at her mouth before finally pulling themself out of the trance. Their unease finally chipped through Max's cheer.

"Right, well," Max mumbled. A paw went to cover her mouth a bit, the tingles of her wounds' remains happy to announce themselves now that she remembered them. Cori trembled every time their eyes stole a glance to her tail. "Y-you saw me after," she paused when they looked up at her, nerves forcing her to look away, "I blacked out?" The news had her so excited she'd completely forgotten what brought her there.

Cori didn't say anything, putting all their effort into keeping their eyes up. Their expression told all, though. It wasn't long before they nodded. An intense bout of shame snaked its way around Max's lungs. For the first time, she considered how that sight must have affected them. Those whispers she barely heard.

"I'm sorry," Max said, miraculously avoiding a crack in her voice. "I-I wasn't—," but she'd already tried to deny it with Olive. It might not have been a conscious decision, but it hadn't come from nowhere. Cori would see through it just as well, if not better. "Okay, I wasn't all right." Maybe if she just put how she felt in context, Cori would understand. "But—here! Look!" She snatched up the pamphlet to shove it at them.

Cori jumped out of another trance and gently grabbed it out of her paws. While they brought it over, Max's eyes zeroed in on the applesauce she'd forgotten. Her stomach collapsed in on itself and forced her to lunge for it, but she luckily kept her balance before flopping to the bed chest first.

The instant her paws wrapped around it, she yanked it back to shove her muzzle against the opening, not even bothering to sit back up. "Oh, that's great!" Cori said, but Max wasn't there to hear it at the moment as she chugged the meager portion down. It was entirely gone in seconds, the plural hardly necessary. Remains of the treat sat atop her muzzle with their once container.

"Piii ka chu," Max cooed. The trance faded away and left her with a sticky feeling on her muzzle. Once she recovered, her contented smile vanished. She shot up to try and save face and sent the mostly empty cup tumbling into her belly. "S-sorry," she mumbled. "I've been really hungry."

Max tried to pick the cup up, but Olive's paw intercepted the motion. If Max had any pride left to hold onto, it shattered when Olive's other paw dabbed at her muzzle and the few drops of applesauce that had dripped down to her chest. At least she'd sat up on her own. If anyone had to see it, Max knew Cori would hold it against her the least.

"You couldn't use a spoon?" Cori asked. They'd taken a few steps back from the bed. That same terrified look from before returned.

Max couldn't parse a single reason why, though. "Well, maybe if I had one," she mumbled. Eye contact was bad enough, and she definitely didn't want to keep seeing them look at her like that. Unfortunately, her awareness let her feel it more than she saw it.

"I put the spoon next to the cup," Olive said. Max looked to see a spoon had, indeed, appeared right where Olive claimed. "You've not used it yourself since you woke up." After Olive set the cup and rag on a tray outside the door, she returned to the bedside opposite Cori. Max felt immeasurably small as Olive looked down with the same clinical smile from earlier. Even without a word, it demanded Max explain herself.

"Well, I'm just hungry," Max said. At the moment, though, her stomach was sated, and she hadn't had any pangs before Olive asked if she wanted to eat. "Not right now, but when the food's there, it's unbearable." She shrugged to look up with a forced smile.

"Are you sure you're feeling better?" Cori asked, barely loud enough to hear.

"What?" Max asked. She tilted her head and looked at them. "Yeah, of course I am." Cori kept looking at her with that same, terrified expression. "It's just hunger." Maybe she'd eaten too fast, but she didn't understand this reaction in the slightest. "And, well, I didn't see the spoon." She tried to remember what happened, but it was all a blur from when she grabbed the food to Olive cleaning her up.

"You spoke a little pokéspeech after you ate," Olive said. Max's ear perked up; she knew very well what that meant. How it connected to eating, though, eluded her entirely—the ice cream. Her throat felt a bit dry. "Often, blacking out drastically increases your hunger. It's a natural extension of your mind acclimating to unstable environments like Dungeons."

Olive held Max's open paw between two fingers. Max squeezed back, though Olive's single finger dwarfed her entire paw. "Well, okay," Max said. She took a deep breath and straightened up. "It's not so bad, right?" Her chest didn't protest when she sat up, either. She glanced at the other two with a smile.

Cori struggled to soften a glare. "Max," they said. Their paw came up to rub the bridge of their snout. When they looked up again, they looked exhausted, almost miserable. The same haze of horror lingered beneath their eyes. It looked like they hadn't gotten much sleep. Max suddenly remembered the desperation in those whispers that barely reached her. "Stop pretending."

"I'm not!" Max shouted. She pulled her paw away from Olive to paw at her scarf. "Sure, I didn't know about that." She glanced at the pamphlet she'd given to Cori for context. Maybe they weren't the one that needed the context, though.

"I-I was just," she mumbled. Her eyes flicked to her tail and started to wet. It felt like she'd finally found the way out of hell, only to look back before she'd made it out. She whimpered. Even still, she felt that excitement bubbling beneath but couldn't break free. Maybe she had overlooked what happened, but she still had joy that she wanted to share.

"Relieved," she said. She brought her paw up to dab away the tears. "I finally found a way out. I-I know I'm still recovering." She started balling up before her rib loudly protested. "But I still wanted to celebrate that," she nodded to the pamphlet, "with someone."

Cori looked carefully over her, intently reading her expression. Max had no idea what they looked for, but they seemed to find it after a few seconds and reached up to grab her paw.

"Sorry," Cori mumbled. Max wanted to smack them for apologizing at a time like this. "I'm just worried." They looked up with a nervous smile that didn't last the length of the glance. "I thought you were just acting again."

Max furrowed her brow. "Again?" she asked. "When? What are you talking about?" She squeezed their paw tighter when they started to squirm to silence the incoming apology. Somehow, they got the message.

"Well, you always act happy before you lose it," Cori said. "You… looked really happy before the mission."

A disquieted silence came over Max. The throbbing in her chest had stopped along with the tearing pain of her tail, the sting in her gums, the ache in her jaw, but only the pain had gone. All her injuries remained. She just had a drug that let her pretend for a while that she was fine. It made her question if the news was good, or it just let her ignore the anguish for a time.

Everywhere felt weak. Nothing she ate ever felt like enough. She felt tired all the time, exhausted even when she slept. Even with the bubbling joy, she was hanging on by a thread.

"I do, don't I?" she mumbled. It had taken so long that it hardly read as a response. The spark of joy still came at the slightest glimpse of that pamphlet, though. She could finally be someone new. She took a deep breath and clenched a fist but couldn't squeeze it hard.

"Okay, I'm not all right," she said. Such a painfully obvious declaration somehow still took incredible effort to get out. "I'm scared, and I hurt, but I'm excited." When she wasn't trying to force it, her smile came out eagerly on its own. She reached over for Cori's paw, and they hurriedly offered it before she had to reach far.

Cori looked intently at her expression before relaxing. Whatever mask she usually put on had left, and Cori managed to smile back at her. "All right," they said. "When do you start?"

Max perked up and turned to Olive, who audibly sighed. Even seeing the ever patient Olive so exasperated couldn't spoil Max's excitement, though, and she impatiently waited for an answer, resisting the urge to jump by recklessly bouncing.

"How many times has she asked?" Cori chuckled.

Olive shook her head and said, "I lost count." The two shared a chuckle, but Max wasn't remotely concerned.

In her excitement, she could hear another set of paws plodding up the hallway. She'd perked up at every sound outside while she waited, but her gut doubled down on this set. It was, after all, within the promised hour. Max had to bite her cheek to keep her awareness in check, conscious and unconscious mind begging to let it sate her curiosity.

The steps drew closer, ever closer to the door and grew louder, ever louder, as they approached the door—from the same direction as the last nurse. The sound didn't grow and fade as they walked past, either. She heard the steps slow as they approached the door before stopping.

Right outside.

The knob turned. The door opened. A kirlia in scrubs walked in with a tray in his arms and froze in place when he saw Max's hysterical stare. Two cups sat on the tray, one of water, and one with two pills.

"Sh-should I go?" Kirlia asked.

"No!" Max barked—throbbing in her chest overcame the pain-killer. The shout caused it, but the immediate leap towards the nurse after certainly didn't help. Luckily for her (and the kirlia), Olive snatched her out of the air with a graceful touch.

"Your rib," Olive sighed, lowering Max back into bed. "Is broken." She even clicked her tongue at Max as she tucked her back in. That chide didn't register with Max, though, since she was still staring desperately at the tray in the Kirlia's hands. "You lost a lot of blood, and someone as small as you already doesn't have much to spare."

Max didn't need the reminder. The ecstatic exertion already had darkness encroaching on the edges of her vision, and her chest had a new ache the medicine didn't quite fully suppress, but she held on for dear life. She'd already waited so long. She couldn't faint now. Her paw struggled to bundle some of the sheet into a squeeze to push her through. She needed to hold on.

"Please hold on," Cori whimpered, from Max's memory or right next to her, she couldn't tell. The cry had a quiet desperation that cut into her chest. She knew she was fine, but did Cori? They certainly didn't seem to.

"I'm," Max wheezed, "okay." Her breaths couldn't go too deep without agitating her chest further. She managed to keep herself from hyperventilating and called it a victory for the time being. Her vision faltered but didn't fail. It fell into the haze right outside of unconscious. She turned to look at Cori and suddenly saw them holding her like they had last time she'd lost consciousness around them.

Their arms holding her up, sapping the excess heat out of her like a cool rag over her head while she fought off a fever. The way they cradled her head and looked down on her. She wouldn't mind waking up in their arms more often.

"Max?" Cori asked. They'd gotten closer to the bed without her notice. Their nose practically touched hers while they rested their muzzle right next to hers. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

The brief thought to lean in and plant a kiss on their snout fizzled out just in time. "Sorry," Max mumbled and looked away. She censured herself in her head for yet another near slip with Cori—how could she keep mixing up these signals? A warmth in her chest told her exactly how, though. She glanced around to feel a bitter chill at the otherwise empty room. Of everyone, they were the only one to come.

"Thank you," she said. "For coming." Her breath had begun to steady, and her vision only had a slight haze to contend against. "Caring." She reeled in her pang of frustration to not soil her thanks by whining about everyone else. "I know I'm a lot to worry about. So, yeah. Thanks."

Cori very gently rubbed her shoulder with a paw. "Of course," they said with a warm smile that threatened to melt her heart. "Just please be careful." Neb's conversation with her in the bathhouse came to mind.

"I'll try," Max said. The threat of losing her consciousness finally started to truly fade. She was still awake, which gave her a little swell of pride in her still aching chest (even if her vision faded a little bit). "Now you know I'm better." She looked over to them with a light smirk that appeared to befuddle them somewhat. "No way I would've stayed conscious from that before."

Cori smirked a bit, extinguishing hers as they tried to hold back a chuckle. "Max," they said with comforting rubs to her shoulder. "You've been out for five minutes." Max's face flushed from concern as much as embarrassment. Cori tried to cover their chuckles with more pats to her shoulder.

"So," Cori said. "Can you please stay calm this time?"

Max tilted her head at them and nearly jumped again when she remembered what excited her to begin with. "Y-yeah!" she said. "I'm—I'm calm! I've never been more calm in my life!" Despite her (incomprehensible) words, she betrayed her true feelings by desperately searching her surroundings for the first dose of the rest of her life.

Cori rolled their eyes with a sigh and said with a chuckle, "I wish you'd let me just be excited for you." She hadn't noticed her slip yet, and they didn't seem to mind, either. After all, they had enough context to guess what she meant to say.

"Are we going to have to tie you down?" Olive said from across the room. She shut her book around a bookmark and started over to the side of Max's bed opposite Cori. The clearly empty threat still managed to force Max to sit still, at least. Olive even seemed a bit surprised to see her suddenly so still. "How you can possibly be so energetic despite everything amazes me."

"She's sorta used to this kind of thing," Cori said. Max shot them a glare that they effortlessly defused with a smile. She couldn't waste any time, though, and immediately looked back to Olive.

Olive held a cup, but not of pills. It held a familiar mush that made Max's stomach feel cavernous on sight. She finally recognized the urge to lunge for it as her instincts, but they still proved hard to ignore. Her mouth was already watering. Olive looked distant while the cup looked closer than the sheet on the bed.

Max cinched her eyes shut and forced her breath to calm while her right paw went to her bracelet. Her stomach ached, folding in on itself at the faint scent that could've just as easily been her imagination. Yet, it felt so close. If this was a test, she was fighting a war for a D minus.

She could hold on, though. It hurt, but when she opened her eyes, she knew they would still see her behind them. "Could. I," she started to say, an almost painful amount of focus on every syllable. "Have that?" Olive had already started to give it to her when she remembered to add, "W-with a spoon?" When it was within reach, she could see Olive's thumb holding a spoon on top of the cup already.

The more restraint she used, the less she needed. Max could reach over to grab it while the temptation to lunge for it gnawed at her, but resisting that much made it easier for her to hold the spoon in one paw and the cup in the other. With a deep breath, she started to eat it by the spoonful.

They weren't slow, reserved spoonfuls, but she was using the utensil. As she shoveled it down, she struggled to believe this was any better. The only difference seemed to be she wasn't quite so messy this time. This time, though, she could actually feel some relief from the hunger. It finally felt like she had anything in her stomach, and that let her slow down toward the end.

By the time she started to scrape at the sides of the cup, she felt exhausted. At least her resistance had won out, but it had taken so much out of her. She offered the cup and the spoon back up to Olive and got two cups in return.

One with water, and the other with two pills.

The applesauce had been a clever ruse, then. Thanks to that ordeal, she was too tired to leap her skull through the ceiling. Her paws felt heavy, heavier than they'd ever felt. Two pills, one round and yellow, the other oblong and teal. Both were smaller than even her smallest nubbin while still seeming larger than life. With it finally in her paws, she finally felt the tiniest bits of trepidation.

She tossed both pills down like a shot and chased them with water. All of her worry washed out in the next breath out. She breathed the same air she'd breathed since she woke up. It tasted fresher, more revitalizing than her first breath after she and Ithos escaped. Her exhaustion washed out as peace took its place.

"M-Max?" Cori asked. "How do you feel?"

Max looked into the empty cups. It hadn't been more than a minute since she swallowed. They probably had yet to make it to her stomach, even as small as she was. There simply wasn't any possible way that they'd had any effect on her yet.

Despite it all, when she said, "About the same," it was the most obvious lie of her entire life.

"I'll be in the back, and I don't need the help
I'm good here in the back
I'm good all by myself"

Gold painted the ceiling with lights on chandeliers twinkling like daytime stars. Despite the large room and the crowd they'd attracted, only the shuffling of a new deck broke the silence. The table was surrounded by spectators. Somehow, even in a casino filled with table minimums in the thousands, their group had summoned a crowd.

Max held her cards close to her chest. She had no idea how they'd gotten there, but she was, and the two 'Mon in Black behind her suggested the day hadn't been peachy up to that point. In fact, she had about three million she had to make before she left. In case she'd forgotten the stakes, the grovyle in black behind her pawed at the too-conspicuous-to-be-concealed bulge in his jacket.

That didn't get to her, though. She was fine. She always held her cards close to her chest. Her striking use of the makeup set Neb got her served to accentuate her smug demeanor. If that wasn't enough—and it was, but if it wasn't—her overlong, yet revealing red dress sparkled in harmony with the scarlet floor while the strands attached to her wrists billowed with her every subtle movement. Her life was on the line, but she wasn't worried.

Directly left of the 'dealer', she posted her small blind (one blue and pink chip, $500), and the actual dealer flicked their cards out with perfect accuracy. Max laughed in the face of tradition by leaving her smug grin on as her neutral expression as she checked her cards.

Max always held her cards close to her chest. They sat on the table as she held them in her paws, pressing against the pudge her tight dress morphed into mounds on her chest.

A two and three of hearts. Just her hand. Under the gun, she decided to raise with another $500. Everyone called but the 'dealer', who folded. The Flop revealed the perfect storm: a Jack, Queen, and King of hearts. Max furrowed her brow in faux frustration. One card from a straight, flush, or even a straight flush. She couldn't be too eager, though. Max always held her cards close to her chest.

To the horror of Oshton, Cori, and Eleos, all hanging off her shoulders, she shoved all but one of her chips into the pot. The largest pool at the table, no one could raise her. They'd have to go all in or fold. Only one more person folded.

The turn was another Jack, this time of spades. She checked. The river brought out a nine of diamonds. Max always kept her cards close to her chest. She checked. The table flipped. A garchomp had the other two Jacks. Four of a kind. She still had a chip, but it wasn't enough for the next buy in, but that didn't change her expression. Even when she felt something hard click behind her head.

Despite the end, Max didn't jolt out of the dream. She opened her eyes to the same dull ceiling as before with an equally familiar cocktail of pain. It had dulled in the past day, but she still needed help handling it.

She rolled over to reach for her cup of meds on the bedside table with a wince. She probably should've asked Olive for help, but the fact she could finally do it herself meant a lot to her last night. Going back after that felt like a regression. Her minuscule progress and two pills alongside her painkiller gave her a wide smile. She was really doing this.

That didn't stay her focus after chasing the pills down with a swig of water. The dream didn't feel any semblance of real, but it definitely felt potent. Most likely due to the painkillers. It stuck in her head like the impending implant that click prophesied. Getting up had worsened the pain enough to at least distract from the memory, though. Unfortunately, it left her only able to lay in agony for a bit.

"Good morning," Olive said, turning the page of a new book. She slipped a bookmark into it and set it down. "I know you've been in bed for a while, but you still need to take it easy." Max shrank under her blanket at the admonishment. "Ready to try solid food again?"

"Pi!" Max answered. Her stomach whined at the reminder of its emptiness, and she tried to rein herself in. "Y-yes, please."

Olive didn't acknowledge the slip, slipping out just long enough to grab the tray, then brought it over to Max. She placed it on the bedside table to help Max sit up against her pillows. Every inch of her body protested, but she tried to hide it. Hopefully, it was only for a few minutes. Olive put a foldout table over Max's paws, then moved the tray over to it.

The mundane sight had her staring with wide, hungry eyes. A bowl of tepid oatmeal stretched the definition of solid food, but at least it had apple slices on top. Even the bland, brown gruel had her on the edge, though. She easily resisted the urge to dig in face first, but the temptation was still there.

It helped that she could feel Olive watching as she forced herself to grab the spoon. The threat of imminent judgment always had a strong effect on her. She scooped up some oatmeal and started digging in.

"Still not easy for you?" Olive asked. Max deflated a bit, but couldn't bring herself to stop eating. The bland hints of brown sugar and maple mixed well enough with the dash of apple that she started picking up the pace before catching herself. Olive hummed in response, making Max stumble just a bit. "For all the hold they clearly still have on you, you seem to have a knack for fighting your instincts."

Max muffled out an attempt at speech and tossed her paw over her mouth before it delivered more than words. With a thick gulp and considerable effort, she managed to drop her spoon into the bowl and say, "I've had to for a while." She didn't know how much Olive knew of her history since neither had seen it necessary to dig or divulge on that.

"So, it's a relapse, then?" Olive asked. Max squirmed a bit, half from the question and half because answering it meant even more time not eating. The sight made Olive chuckle. "Eat if you need to."

"I'll be fine," Max said as her paw reached for the spoon. She told herself she only needed one more bite to move on. Once the fifth (in half as many seconds) still felt insufficient, she forced herself to stop again. "I'm not sure." She forced her eyes off the oatmeal to stare down at her bed. "My first time was a lot more intentional. This just doesn't feel the same."

"I understand," Olive said, lightly rubbing Max's head. Max initially flinched at the touch, earning yet another thoughtful hum from Olive. "Are you all right?" An involuntary flick dragged her tail along the blanket. Luckily, the medication stopped it from hurting as much as it should've. "You've been on edge since you woke up."

Back to square one. Despite it all, she fell right back to the precise topic she didn't want to think about. She could always lie, but those had started to feel less and less healthy as of late. "Was it a dream?" Olive asked, providing a more conspicuous reason to tell the truth.

"Yeah," Max said. She started eating more of her oatmeal to procrastinate some more, which lasted about five seconds until she only had apple slices left. Sucking on a few at a time, she started trying to think up a way to explain this dream. "It was—oh, have you ever heard of Texas Hold'em?"

Olive's blank stare answered for her. "What's a Texas?" she asked. A few soft knocks at the door saved Max from having to think up an answer for that. Olive rubbed Max's head again and turned to the door. "Come in."

Oshton opened the door up a crack to look in and ask, "Is this—Max."

"Oh, hey!" Max cheered. Oshton lingered at the door for a moment before taking a deep breath and coming in. "I didn't know you were coming." Max could've bounced with excitement if her body let her, so any hesitation missed her notice entirely.

"Yeah," Oshton mumbled. Her eyes followed the ground until she made it to the bed and basically had to look up. She put on a smile that barely qualified as paper, closer to scraps. "So…." Her voice trailed off with her eyes. They slipped down the bed to the same place Cori's had the day before. "How are you holding up?"

"Good!" Max said; Oshton glared at her for an instant before catching herself. "Or, well, y'know." Even her excitement couldn't keep Max from noticing at this point. Her jubilee started to falter, but she tried to keep it together. "I'm still recovering, but I—"

"I can't do this," Oshton said. Max froze, if only to keep on her smile. "Not again." Oshton shook her head, then glared up at Max. "You made a promise in there. Do you remember that?" Max's smile finally fell. She probably could've answered, but not in the split second Oshton gave her. "That you wouldn't do this again?" Max flinched. "That I wouldn't lose you again?!"

Olive flew around the bed in a flash to grab Oshton's shoulder and say, "Stop!" Oshton grit her teeth while keeping her glare squarely on Max. "I know you're dealing with a lot, too, but I will not let you yell at her like that while she's recovering."

"W-wait, no," Max tried to argue, waving Olive down.

"Fine," Oshton spat. She jerked her shoulder out of Olive's grip and started walking out. Again, she lingered at the door.

"P-Please, wait," Max whimpered. She couldn't process an iota of what Oshton said. Tears had already begun to well up in her throat, but she tried her damnedest not to let them out. Oshton glanced over her shoulder with a trickle of her own tears, goading out the one's Max held back.

"If you're not gonna stop gambling your life," Oshton growled. She started to open the door. "I can't do this." The door slammed behind her. Even with Olive right there, Max was alone.