Welcome to Gaia! ::

The infirmary was mostly empty, at this time of day - but the beep of monitors and occasional rustle of bedsheets was underscored by a deep voice, softly reciting something.

"`I'm sure those are not the right words,' said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on, `I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh! ever so many lessons to learn! No, I've made up my mind about it; if I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here!"

Wash paused in his reading, to check on his audience, and smiled. Sasha had finally fallen asleep. She needed to rest; to heal. He tried not to hover, but tended to pass by from time to time, to talk; or in this case, to read aloud Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. The reading had been his idea - the book, hers. He'd seen the movie, but never read the actual text - it was certainly interesting, in an odd, off-kilter way.

He closed the volume with a small rustle, settling it on her bedside table and preparing to leave.

There were not enough exclamations of surprise or dismay for what Wash felt when he nearly walked right into Jerry on the way out of the small recovery room. He'd been trying to avoid the other man, as per Sasha's request, since their little 'altercation' in the life labs.

And yet here he was. Wash took a deep breath.

"Hello, Jerry." His voice was soft, quiet - but held a steely edge. "She's asleep. Did you need somethin'?"

Were those flowers in his hand? He took another deep breath. God grant me patience.

"Spar gone bad. Nothing too serious. She'll be fine." His sentences were clipped, terse. He kept his voice low - the last thing he wanted was for her to wake up to this particular visitor.

Wash moved to block him.

"Don't know, didn't ask."

He raised his voice a tiny bit, a warning rumble.

"She's sleeping."

Wash let his breath out in a slow hiss. "I can see that, Jerry."

He paused, shaking his head, but otherwise remaining motionless. His old friend wasn't giving him much of a choice, and so he let the next words be dragged out of him in an irate whisper.

"I was there th' other day, in the life labs. Damn near everyone heard you, man." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Y'need to leave. Now," he added helpfully.

Wash covered his eyes with one hand.

"Jerry..."

More firmly, now, "Jerry. You stalked her at her work, you YELLED at her in front o' a buncha lab techs and kissed her while drunk."

He didn't mention the masturbating - God. He couldn't even make his mind go there.

"Nevermind whatever else you 'fessed up to. If we weren't on this 'lil island, if we were out in the real world, you'd be facing charges." He snorted, and added, "if they didn't LOCK you UP. This is serious s**t, you can't just say sorry and bring a bunch o' flowers and expect..."

He held his hands out emphatically, gesturing at the man he thought he knew. "Jerry, man, look at what you're DOIN'. Look at your CHOICES." He wasn't trying to be quiet, now. "You ain't got no God damn sense."

"I j-just.. don't understand," Jerry murmured, outright trembling as Wash continued on. "I w-was just... trying-ying-ying...."

Her voice suddenly drifted up and Jerry made a tight, panicked noise in his throat.

His cheeks were damp, his eyes streaming. He wasn't crazy. This wasn't fair. She had never even given him a chance. They used to talk all the time, about everything, anything, endlessly chit chatting and dreaming and sharing together but after what had happened in the Clan territory...

Allan had lied to him. He had said to trust him, that everything would be okay. He had been ready to throw himself at the damn place alone to try to get her back- get them BOTH back- and she repaid him by shutting him out. Cutting him off, forever. What had he done? What had happened? Why why why why why did she hate him so much?

He didn't get it, and she refused, time and time again to explain. She said she hated when he acted soft and weak, and so he had tried to show strength but that just made matters worse.

How could he make sense when SHE didn't make sense? He was breathing heavily, mouth trembling open and closed again, before dropping the flowers, and turned to run.

He didn't want trouble. He just wanted... answers.

He wanted her back.

Wash's hand in hers had her mumbling sleepily, her eyes slipping closed. A wrinkled, misshapen smile fleetingly fussed with her lips. It didn't occur to her in her drugged up, candy-coated cloud that Jerry was there in the room with them - or, at the very least, on his way out: the first thing she'd heard was the deep rumble of Wash's voice.

Everything was hazy, like staring through an ice-coated window. Shadows and whorls, blurred and almost shapeless. From her vantage point on the bed, she could only see Wash, his face a soothing reminder that she wasn't alone, that she wasn't in danger - that as long as he was here, nothing would happen to her. She was half-expecting a visit from Rep, eye for an eye, and she didn't want to be alone when that happened.

"You stopped reading," she slurred quietly, mouth dry. The medications they were pumping into her were enough to keep the harsh edge of pain at bay, but she could still feel residual aches and pains everywhere. "Don't leave."

Her voice was soft, sleepy, and her eyes remained closed.