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It only took them 15 minutes to prepare her for surgery. They'd prepared themselves hours before, discussing the options, and choices available. They'd let her sleep until it was absolutely the last minute, and then it was time; waking her up, explaining the procedure, and immediately carting her away. There was no time to grieve. No time to fear. No time to worry about others.

She was gone before the sun had crested completely over the horizon, and her gurney was cleaned, changed, and reset for her return.

All of her belongings were placed in a small box at the edge of the bed, as a silent reminder that the room was not to be handed off to a new patient while she was under. There wasn't much; some nail polish, her phone, her jewelry. And a cap. She'd requested it especially, from her room, long before she'd gotten her bandages off the first time. She hadn't worn it once, but she never wore that cap anyway. She only slept with it when she needed something to hold on to.

The empty room smelled sterile, like fresh cleaning products. The windows were all open, streaming light in. And it remained empty, despite several attempts to fill it with new patients, for hours.

Waiting in the next room meant he was privy to the sound of a gurney being wheeled into Maebe's room, signalling her return. She was still hooked up to an IV, and her head was bandaged once more, though it was only from the eyes up, and around the entire head. There was a larger bump to the bandages, near the side of her skull, where they'd chosen to enter. Another set of tubes wrapped loosely around her head - oxygen that was pumping up into smaller, inch high points that disappeared into her nostrils.

She was asleep, of course, but the surgery had ended long ago. They moved her back into her room so that she could wake up in familiar surroundings, not that she would be able to see them.

Machines monitoring her were everywhere. The beating of her heart was a solid beep in one, with a handful of ever changing numbers surrounding the waves as they jutted slowly with each heartbeat.

When they finally left her alone, someone had the decency to actually check and make sure Dawson was notified. It made things easier for them - she would need someone to watch over her.

When Dawson woke up, it would be with a smack to his cheek.

"Oh. s**t." Maebe hissed out, instantly realizing that she'd hit someone, which meant someone had been there the whole time without her realizing it. She'd been awake for at least a half hour, lost in dreary thought, before she'd even considered attempting to search around her for her belongings. She found something, all right - and when her hand gently brushed along the cheek she'd hit, it was clear by the stubble and plump that it was Dawson. She would have guessed him even if she couldn't have felt him - he was the only one who was always there.

"Did I wake you up?" She whispered, very quietly, in case she hadn't. "Sorry for hitting you, sweetheart."

"Groggy. My head hurts, but I think that's to be expected considering someone drilled into it this morning." At least her sense of humor seemed to have returned. Being confirmed as alive tended to do that for her. "It should probably hurt more, but I think I'm flying high on some killer pain meds. Do I look okay?" She licked her lips, and smiled as if she wanted him to check what was visible of her face for perfection.

Instead, he was reminded of breakfast. She rested her hand at her stomach, and found it empty but queasy from medication. "I might be able to eat something, if you go get yourself some food. Nothing greasy. I can tell it'll come right back up."

There was a strange sort of lilt in her voice. The hard edge usually present was missing, buffed away by her circumstances. What was left was a quiet, almost apathetic lull, tainted with the smallest hint of longing. She sounded like she wanted something, but couldn't bring herself to care enough to ask.

Maybe it was breakfast. Who could tell.

Maebe's coy smile indicated that Dawson had said just the right thing, and she laid back down to rest, bathing excessively in the compliment. When he returned, she hadn't moved much, but the coy smile had faded in place of a neutral expression. She'd nodded off easily, and was floating between asleep and awake, by the time he returned. The sound of the door jolted her back up into full consciousness, and she took the banana in her hand.

"What kind of a meal is that for you, though? Didn't you get yourself some real food?" She muttered, her tone a mix between annoyed and worried.

The banana was half peeled, but she couldn't find the will power to actually eat it, so it rested on it's peel against her chest.

"I am." Her tone suggested that she took offense to his offense. "If I wasn't blind on a hospital bed right now I would put this banana down and get a portal to Burger King. Healthy food is for when you're sick."

And with that, she picked up the banana, and started eating it. Because somehow, it made sense to try and eat better when you were trying to recover, just as you'd eat soup when you had a cold.

"Sweetie, as funny as that is, the last thing I ever want to think about is you with a d**k in your mouth. Trust me." Everyone else, sure. But the moment she started to even think about the joking possibility of it with Dawson, she wanted to throw up the one bite of banana she'd managed. She couldn't handle another situation like that in her life. She really couldn't.

"Give me some crackers. I'm feeling salty."

The more he talked about meat, the more she wanted it. She knew it would all just come back up if she ate something like that, but that did not stop her tongue from wanting to taste the greasiest, messiest burger against it. She squirmed, and made a whining noise.

She only had herself to blame.

With the crackers in hand, she ripped the plastic open more (crumbs, everywhere!) and pulled out a few to chew on thoughtfully. Only after she was done, did she answer; with a sly, mischievous smirk.

"Ah ah ah," She murmured. "Not until I get my eyesight back."

Clearly, whatever it was, had to do with their talk.

Maebe heard some serious worry in his voice. "You know, normally, when a girl tells you she needs to talk, it means she's going to break up with you." She tried to keep the tone light, because even though it didn't sound like it, she was trying to cheer him up. "But seeing as we're not dating, I obviously don't want to break up with you. So maybe I just want to talk because it'll make me feel better about us. Not so awful, is it?"

She hoped it wouldn't be as terrifying as it felt.

"Come on." She reached her hand out, and gestured for him to take it. "Think about this. You're here with me when I really need you. I'll never be able to repay you for it. But at least I want you to know that I appreciate it. And I'd be a god damned idiot if I didn't try my best to keep you in my life. Right? Right. So eat your banana, and stop worrying that I'm going to chew your face off."

She snapped her teeth at him, and then grinned.